


sunflower

by cloudynebula, Lapifors



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dissociation, Hatake Kakashi Has Issues, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Moral Ambiguity, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, References to Depression, References to Self-Esteem Issues, Rivals to Friends to Strangers to Friends to ???, Secret Identity, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudynebula/pseuds/cloudynebula, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapifors/pseuds/Lapifors
Summary: Through a posthumous letter of recommendation from the Fourth Hokage, Gai finally gets to be in the ANBU squad he's longed for—under two conditions. One, find the traitor hiding among Konoha's unseen; and two, don't, under any circumstances, get caught before he completes his mission. Gai quickly learns his challenge is more complicated than he thought as friendships, loyalties, and identities come into the light, especially when his squad leader,Inu, takes a special interest in him.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai | Might Guy
Comments: 62
Kudos: 108





	1. cherry blossom

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to kay for opening my eyes to this ship and how it literally has all of my favorite pairing tropes/aesthetics, but also much blame to kay for making me rewatch naruto in the year 2020. thanks for being persistently you, kay. sorry i took a while to wake up, i'm a late bloomer hah. this story is for you. - lapi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth Hokage challenges Gai for a spot on a coveted roster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for purposes of this fic, this story diverges from canon after kakashi is deployed into anbu by the fourth hokage, tenzou is added to kakashi's squad later than he had in canon, and has not had his heel-face turn yet. hiruzen and the council do not know danzo's root exists.
> 
> the timeline has been changed, so details have also been altered to fit things together. for the main story, kakashi and gai are both 19-20 years old, tenzou is 17 years old, and itachi is 12. characterization is based on shared headcanons between the authors.
> 
> in this chapter, gai is 13 years old, and it is after the secret mission minato sent him to fetch kakashi.
> 
> also, yes, i accidentally posted the draft early ripppp lmao long-time subscribers know this is my curse sorry for the multiple alerts, folks. hope you enjoy. - lapi

A lone, small silhouette exited the last of Konoha’s gated neighborhoods, heading into the rural outskirts with nothing but the moonlight as a guide. The shadow, stretched tall by the light of the moon, walked past gigantic oak trees withered without their leaves, and hopped over a partially glacial brook. The destination was a dark, lonely wooden shack, one that croaked at the weight of two little feet.

The door groaned, there was a single, “I’m home,” and then the door shut. The shack lit up for a moment, orange and warm, and after the steam from its thatched roof abated, the house fell into silent bruised-blue darkness, a new adjustment for its only remaining owner.

When Maito Gai finally crawled into his bed, exhaustion had already settled into his bones and was making a home for itself. The house was quiet save for his tired breathing, and somehow it made the empty house feel large.

And him, so small.

Gai let out a tiny chuckle against his pillow and marveled at how he could still fear such childish things. It wasn't his first night alone or anything. Strangely, accepting that fact tugged at an ache inside his chest.

"I should sleep in a better position, it'll be harder on my body when I wake up in the morning," Gai said to no one but himself.

Shifting to lie on his side, he turned his head to the window. The blinds weren't drawn, and the windowpane was opened at an angle. Oops. Gai must have forgotten in his excitement to shut it when he had left in the morning. He should close the window. He should. It was unsafe, wasn't it?

As if coaxing him away from such action, a gentle touch slid against his face. Gai sighed at its refreshing coolness. It was the breezes that dipped through the valleys of Konoha, the winds that carried mountain air, the zephyrs which cradled the scent of the lush, deep woods. Their caress soothed and invited Gai to sleep. Papa had said there was nothing nicer than Konoha’s wind currents. He was right.

Gai's eyes felt heavy, and the pale paper moon framed in his window appeared to blink in and out of existence. Hah, wouldn't that be funny... if the moon were to disappear?

Something smacked against the glass with a thwack. Immediately, Gai sat up in his bed despite the sharp cry of refusal coming from his muscles.

What was—ah.

It was just a tree branch. A cherry blossom branch swishing. Blinking the sleep away from his eyes, Gai leaned in and squinted. The moonlight glimmered on the tight, unopened buds, and at that moment, Gai almost mistook them for pearls with how bright they shone.

It was that time now, wasn't it? Gai dropped his fists and shook the tension out of his hands. It was almost time. Letting out a noisy exhale, Gai plopped back onto his bed, landing on his back. Coming back to a clearer mind, he continued to stare outside at the shaking branch and wondered out loud.

"Will I miss the festival this year?"

Although Gai had tried to empty his head, the question Minato-san had asked lingered in his mind like rotting cherry blossoms after the flower-viewing season. Once thriving in glorious youthful splendor, the flurries of pink eventually swirled into their permanent obsolescence. Just like their fate, the question existed as both celebration and misery.

However, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing since Gai had cultivated a fondness for cherry blossoms early in his life.

The kinship must have started when he was still a greenhorn genin, freshly graduated, during one of many cherry blossom festivals. Papa had been busy with a mission sweeping up piles and piles of flora, and Gai had helped because it meant his father could finish faster and actually enjoy the festivities.

To keep himself occupied, Gai had made it a challenge for himself to catch every single petal he saw before they fell to the ground. Any blossom that touched the ground had to be swept up as part of Dai's neverending mission.

Belatedly Gai remembered that challenge was particularly tough; he had ended up with bruised knees and dirtied fingers.

But it had all been worth it to experience the bright pang of joy above the ringing pain when, as he unfurled his fist, he had discovered he was holding a discolored petal in between his bandaged fingers. It had been a faint blush-pink marred with blotches of decay. One single petal had burned the image into his memories. The cherry blossom had captivated Gai in its beauty and death all at once.

Papa, taking a respite from work, had leaned on his broom and laughed. Through his deep-throated chuckles, he had congratulated Gai on completing his challenge of acquiring the elusive and _pretty_ cherry blossom.

Gai recalled the words he had spoken at the time. "But Papa, it's _ugly_."

"No, it isn't, my son. Cherry blossoms are the epitome of Springtime Youth! Look how they bloom above you! What do you feel?"

Gai had followed his father's order, heeded his question, and found no dispute to verbalize. His mouth had felt stuffed with invisible mochi, and something shook inside him when the breeze picked up. Crowning the blue skies were boughs of powerful pink, a sea of flowers rivaling the great tufts of white clouds—as if saying with their brilliant color, _"See? I belong in the sky as well."_

Papa hadn't asked Gai to answer him. Instead, Gai let out a surprised squeak when, as he had been lost in his rapture, his father had launched him up and over onto his shoulders. Whilst he had been distracted, his father had stealthily made his way over to pick up his son. How sneaky his father had been! Gai had puffed up his chest in admiration of his father's skills. And who could tell Gai not to? After all, Papa was a shinobi, no matter what the others had said! Letting out a joyous giggle at his newfound height, Gai had lifted his arms up over his head to touch the flowers.

Gai remembered feeling strangely upset at the gap between his fingers and the petals. They had been too far for him to reach unless the blossoms were already on the verge of falling. Already heading down. Going, going, gone. Yes, his throat had tightened up, and his little lungs had ached thinking about the cherry blossoms. The spots of pink had been so pretty before they fell. Even as a child, Gai had known when those flowers landed on the ground, they were going to be stepped on. Forgotten.

"It feels... nice but sad, Papa. They only last for a few days and then they... then they die." 

"You're right, my son! Excellent observation skills, you are truly on your way to being a great shinobi!" Dai had sobbed through proud tears and pressed forth, "Ah, but you shouldn't be sad at all!"

"Why's that, Papa?"

"Cherry blossoms do not simply die." Maito Dai had said it like fact. And before Gai could barrage him with questions, his father had asked, "Do you know the legend of Sakuya-hime?"

Gai had shaken his head, and his father's booming laugh carried down the street like the fleet-footed March breeze.

"She was the daughter of the mountain god! A beauty who resided over the earth and its flowers! A god named Ninigi fell in love with her, instead of her sister, who was the goddess of the stone. Although discouraged by her father, Ninigi insisted on wedding Sakuya-hime, and that's why human life is ephemeral! Unlike the immortal stone, like the petals, we grow, bloom, and fade—"

"That's awful! We could have been long-lasting like the rock, Papa! Why did he marry Sakuya-hime?"

"My son! Life is not only about longevity. Life... Life is about being in the moment. Each day, each night, each noise, each quiet. Happiness and sadness. A life that's not _lived_ in, well... Who is to say then _that_ was life?"

Gai had been silent as the wind picked up. The rustling branches overhead had snowed petals down onto him and his father. They had felt downy against his cheek, and tickled his scalp.

His father had continued with gusto, "To bloom your brightest, to be the most you can be, now that is what makes life worth living. When the blossoms fall, they do it with grace, with the knowledge they had done all they could whilst knowing death is inevitable.

"They return to the earth, but they do not stay there. They know they will return in the spring to bloom again! They will be the herald of hope in the face of a cold winter! The cherry blossoms are precious reminders of _being,_ of renewal! Of Youthful Energy!

"In fact, Gai! They are, dare I say it, your greatest rival when it comes to embodying the Springtime of Youth! You won't lose to them, won't you, my son?"

Gai had felt Papa stretch his neck to look up at him. Feeling that sadness dissolve away instantly, Gai had nodded.

He remembered he had struck out his thumb and grinned with his teeth, as he had etched a promise into his heart.

"Yes, Papa! I won't lose! You'll see!"

Alone, with the ghost of his father's laughter ringing in his ears, Gai wondered if he had kept that promise to his father.

Images of that idyllic spring scene soon deteriorated with rot. As painful memories betrayed his nostalgia, they flashed scenes of the burning flames shooting off of Papa's skin when he had opened the Eight Gate.

No, Gai shouldn't think about _that_. Not in the way his thoughts were heading. Now, the Hokage's question, that was the matter at hand.

Heady with its sweetness, the Yellow Flash's tantalizing proposal had been swept to the refuge of his thoughts, like trashed cherry blossoms, only to alight and flurry over his consciousness and remind Gai—

_I am thinking of making Kakashi a member of my elite guard, of making him ANBU. What do you think about that?_

As young as Minato-san was, Gai didn't take him for a fool. The man was a newly-minted Hokage, he was the teacher of Gai's Eternal Rival. Namikaze Minato was the one who honed Hatake Kakashi, the whetstone who Kakashi sharpened himself for. Minato-san was a person who Gai, a Konoha Shinobi, respected but he was also a person who Gai, Kakashi's best friend, quietly disagreed with. And wasn't the latter quite a feat for Gai?

_Will you follow, Maito Gai?_

Gai shifted in his bed and his sore muscles ached. Minato-san sure showed him what an elite ninja could do.

He had followed Kakashi's mentor to a treeless field, a training ground familiar to Gai, what with the times he had _accidentally_ come across Kakashi working on his fundamentals.

Earlier today had been cold. It had been a rare February afternoon, full of light. But as he had watched the Hokage walk out into the field, the sun, which had been shining so fiercely, had gathered a pillow of clouds to hide her radiance. The grass had stilled. It had only been the two of them, Gai was sure of that.

He remembered he hadn't even heard the call of a bird.

"Thank you for coming with me here, Gai," Minato-san had said, a distance away.

Somehow, it had felt wrong for Gai to accompany the Hokage deep into the thrush, leaving Gai to fall back. The wild plants had touched Gai's knees and their brittle resistance pushed against his jumpsuit. Far away, the man in the field had looked like he was wading in a winter's ocean; the vegetation had been olive-brown and murky around the Fourth's waist.

"You know, if it weren't for you, Kakashi wouldn't be here."

Gai recalled that he had made a shameful outburst in front of the Hokage, fists balling up to his sides and voice picking up as he had argued, "That's not true! Kakashi is strong! He would have figured it out, and gotten out alive! He's my rival for a reason!"

Once the words had left his mouth, Gai had winced.

Back in his bed, Gai re-lived that moment by cringing and tossing in his futon. Why didn't he keep his mouth shut? Papa would be turning in his grave knowing that his son had been so disrespectful just a few hours prior. But Minato-san was wrong to say that! Sure, the Hokage was _right_ on sending Gai after Kakashi, but there was a difference between Gai’s intervention and Kakashi’s life.

There had to have been, right?

Minato-san, however, had merely laughed and sing-songed his response. " _This_ is exactly why I sent you, Gai. I know you believe in him."

Gai had nodded, but just in case Minato-san couldn't see it, he also yelled out an affirmative. "Of course I do!"

The Hokage had chuckled and tilted his head to the side.

"But I also know you worry that Kakashi is losing himself. You know he's suffering. I know this as well. However, he's stubborn." Minato-san had drawn a scroll from inside his jacket and unfurled it. In the dead wind, the paper had hung limp and unimpressive.

"I am thinking of making Kakashi a member of my elite guard, of making him ANBU. What do you think about that?" The Yondaime had asked him, finally dropping the conversational tone.

Already ANBU at the age of twelve? Gai had never heard of such a feat. It had just seemed like yesterday that Kakashi had been promoted to jounin. After the warm pride he had felt for his rival swelled in his heart, then came Gai's crushing realization. It had dawned on Gai that the Fourth Hokage was a battle-hardened veteran. A war general who had led soldiers to clutch victories, and inevitable losses.

"Lord Fourth, but, Kakashi isn't in the right state… ah, not that he isn't talented! But!" Gai had stammered, not knowing how to effectively raise the issue to the highest-ranking shinobi in all of Konoha.

The way Kakashi had regarded Gai during that mission had been haunting. Though his chest had heaved up and down with animated breaths, Kakashi had stared through Gai like a corpse. Would ANBU help or make things worse? There had been endless rumors, the countless stories. The numerous death records of names never to be released to the public. This was what ANBU was expected to be, and Gai had felt sick.

As if expecting it, Minato-san had been quick to understand Gai's point.

He had admitted, grim-faced, "I wish I could say this decision is solely and freely my choice. There are eyes on Kakashi, Gai. They’ve made recommendations. We are at war, and Konoha wants strength. There are those who desire might in the form of destruction. The nature of power is defined by how it's wielded. If it's not by _my_ appointment, then someone else will surely snatch Kakashi, if…"

"If my rival doesn't go to them first?" Gai had finished, and hated that he was right since Minato-san had ducked his head in place of a straightforward response. Gai had hated how he couldn't swallow down the lump in his throat. His nails had dug into his palms at how easily Minato-san envisioned that Kakashi’s future promised the glint of steel and the gloss of blood.

Presently in his bed, Gai knew what that indescribable feeling had been. He had felt betrayed by his own Hokage.

“I know Kakashi doesn’t seek power. He is too noble, too loyal to Konoha and her people. What he seeks is something else, and I don’t know what it is yet. I don’t think he knows what it is, either, which is why... I want to keep a close eye on him, but now being Hokage, I don’t have the luxury of being there for him as a mentor, a companion.”

Though the space between them had been far and wide, Minato-san’s piercing blue gaze had cut into Gai.

“Will you follow, Maito Gai? Would you follow Kakashi?” The Yondaime had challenged.

There had been no second thought, no hesitation. Gai hadn’t regretted his answer then, and didn’t regret it now.

“Yes. He’s my man of destiny! We’re fated eternal rivals! I’m not going to just lag behind him, either! I’ll be running after him until we’re side-by-side! Actually, if Kakashi’s not careful, I might even surpass him!” Gai had declared and on instinct, had flashed a pose and a gleaming grin.

“Destiny, you say. Well...” Minato-san had said something else, but it had been too faint for Gai to hear.

“Excuse me?” Gai had asked.

Just as Gai had awaited his answer, the reeds bent their heads in one rustling arc, powerless against a sudden and violent gust dashing through the field. Gai had braced against it, squinting his eyes to protect them from the kick of dust. In his watery vision, Minato-san’s white and red robe had risen like the petal of a large bloom caught in the wind.

“Let’s see it, then!” Minato-san had rolled up the swaying scroll with one flick of his wrist and tucked it into his vest. “If you can graze me even _once_ , I’ll write your name in this scroll and admit you into ANBU. You’ll serve under me and fulfill a mission only I can entrust you with. So, I ask again—show me. Show me what you mean by ‘destiny!’”

Right as the wind had let up and the grass sprang back, Minato-san had disappeared. Gai had been lucky his self-training was so arduous, so precise, that he was able to sense the sharp change in the air and drop his back to dodge the swipe of a three-pronged kunai.

“Oh! You’re faster than Kakashi!” Minato-san had praised him, and if it hadn’t been for the conditions, Gai knew he would have almost cried at hearing such a compliment from the Yellow Flash.

“But I’m faster,” Minato-san had gloated.

Another blur later and the man had popped up right behind him, meeting Gai during his backflip. Thanks to a quick and controlled twist of his spine, Gai had narrowly missed a kick aimed at his side. He had spun out, scything down a strip of grassland and digging two lines in the barren, winter earth where his sandals had caught in.

Gai remembered how fast his heart had been racing during that fight, and knew with a thrill that still tingled down his spine — even now in his futon — that Minato-san was faster than the blood coursing through Gai’s body.

At that moment, there had been no other option. Gai had to make his decision there, crouched in the tall weeds. He had decided he couldn’t stay on the defensive.

Without preamble, Gai had kicked off into a stance and rushed the first glimpse of yellow he had seen. He hadn’t even gotten to call out his attack, for there was none. Normally, when sparring with Kakashi, the other ninja would reflexively block Gai’s kicks with a well-positioned arm. With the Hokage? Gai had struck nothing.

Whizzing through the air, Gai had landed into the field. He had rolled out of the velocity, not wanting to snap ligaments by forcefully stopping his speed, but had fallen right into a trap. He had spotted the line of kunai embedded in the ground too late. The earth had been littered with them, multitudes of metal tails had faced the skies like the markers of mass graves. There was no further examination to be had, since in no more than a blink of Gai’s eyelashes, there was Minato-san — and his fist.

Mitigating the punch had been easier said than done. Sacrificing an arm, Gai had turned to bear the pain. Nonetheless, the impact had sent him skyrocketing. In the air, he had struggled to regain a sense of gravity before he became a sitting duck open to another blow.

The air had whistled next to Gai’s ear, which had scarcely eluded the sharp bite of another knife, but Gai knew it was the only warning he would get. He had to act now! Gai had swung his hips with rough torque to his left, kicking at the Yondaime’s incoming silhouette — and had whiffed the shot again.

Dropping below, Gai had gracefully perched onto the ground. If it hadn’t been for the cracks that immediately shot up to its surface, it would have appeared that Gai had been holding back.

With a crackle that reverberated throughout the air, Minato-san and another Minato-san had grinned at Gai from a short distance away surrounded by puffs of white smoke. The reeds around them had been sundered in half and the air had smelled like burning wood and ozone all at once.

“You noticed my before-image, I see! You forced me to blink out before you got me.” The Hokage on the left had said.

“Very impressive, Gai. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at how talented you are, given how much Kakashi talks about you,” the Hokage on the right had commended.

Amid his serious fight, Gai had broken out into a silly smile.

“Kakashi says a lot of nice things about me?” Gai had asked. The one on the left had glanced sharply at the one on the right, who bore a sheepish beam.

“Well...” Left Hokage had begun saying, his eyes scanning the skies for some reason.

“...Not in, hah, so many words… or, uh… pleasantries.” Right Hokage had finished, and pointed at Gai. “You know, Gai, you’ve got great senses but you shouldn’t let your emotions sway you in battle. You should, ah, keep your loved ones dear to your heart—”

Gai had let out a sharp grunt when Minato-san had blinked into the air before him and shot him back with a kick to his ribs. Although Gai had attempted to steady himself, he wasn’t strong enough to withstand the force and had tumbled backward into the dirt. Groaning, Gai had grasped at his heaving chest with his one good arm. His entire left arm had gone ice-numb.

“—and not near your mouth,” the man on the left had concluded, lifting a ball of swirling chakra Gai had never seen the likes of before. If that thing hit him, Gai knew he was good as gone. He had difficulty getting up to stand on both feet, but he forced himself into doing it.

He had to, not for only himself, but someone else.

As the fight had gone on, Gai had seen beyond the two Kages and their challenge. If he closed his eyes, he could see what the true cost of the battle meant. He knew the Hokage had been no more than an obstacle, a gatekeeper.

Yes, there had been more on the line.

There was a figure behind Minato-san’s shadow who Gai, in his heart, knew he had to reach. A being in-between existences, a presence weighted by their absence, their omission an arrow for Gai to draw, notch, release. _Chase_. Gai surmised it was this thought, this drive, this determination which had him weakly smirk and say to the Hokage’s face:

“Ah, yes! Kakashi has told me the same about you and your wife!”

Minato-san’s face had gotten red in an instant as he had blurted out, “What about my wife?”

It had been the opening Gai was searching for. Striking down on the already crumbling ground with an ax kick, Gai’s heart had soared when his gamble paid off. The Fourth’s group of kunai had flung into the air, along with rock and detritus, glittering sunbeam slices off their reflective surfaces just as the earth felt like it had slowed for Gai, and Gai alone.

Gai had leaped and wound up his free leg toward his abdominal core, each millisecond a precious gravitational pull and at the right spot, had unleashed a flurry of kicks. Each free-falling kunai had collided with his foot, had blitzed across the field with the drive of Gai's strikes, like bullets with a death wish. And Gai’s right leg, the smoking gun.

Both of the Hokages had exploded in a discharge of smoke and sound upon the knives’ impact, as Gai had predicted. That odd chakra ball had been a feint on the Fourth’s end to demoralize Gai, hadn’t it? But he wouldn’t be deterred.

With the propelling force of his lunging kick, Gai had somersaulted in mid-air, upside-down and still flying, catching one of the kunai during its barrelling sprint — hurry, he had to hurry — and spun the looped end around his outstretched index finger. Throwing all of his weight, Gai had launched the metal tool behind him — right at the real Namikaze Minato, who had flickered into perfect view.

For the first time, the man had betrayed a look of surprise and swiftly ducked. Gai had sworn when the knife zipped by the top of the Hokage’s head, exiting out of his mop of messy yellow hair. Gai had missed!

But the Fourth had not.

Gai had no chance to recover from his mid-air roll, no time to collect his bearings, and right his center of gravity when the Yellow Flash phased in at the point of Gai’s landing. Gai had crashed into the solid body, and without a second’s breath, he had been slammed into the earth by the counter. He had tried to fight out, but Minato-san had been perspicacious during the duel. The Yondaime had known where to end it all.

Gai had let out a strangled yell when the Hokage had twisted the injured arm back, enough to give warning. That had been it. Gai had to submit. He had been subdued by the hand of a man who had killed more lives than he had lost. Gai had gone up against the whetstone, and instead of leaving him sharp and ready, it had ground him down to the dirt, to the ash, to the rot.

Minato-san had released him immediately when Gai made that cry. Giving Gai space, the Fourth had flashed a remorseful glance before it melted away into stoicism. In that time, Gai hadn’t had the heart to tell Minato-san that his veiled look of pity only had made Gai feel worse.

There had been no getting around it. He had failed the challenge. He had been broken.

In his bed, Gai flipped his pillow over his head as the thought rolled in, a sly vulture of a voice who only came by to pick at Gai’s wounds when he was at his weakest.

 _Maito Gai was no Hatake Kakashi_ , it sneered.

“I know that,” Gai muffled a reply into his futon. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t, because it hadn’t been a full loss.

Back at the field, the Yondaime had lifted his blond head to the gray sky. However, Gai’s eyes had been stuck in the muck. His orange leg warmers had been caked with mud. Later, it would take him forever to wash it out with soap and water.

“You did well, Gai!” Minato-san had laughed and ruffled Gai’s hair. “Sorry for going a bit overboard! You say ‘destiny’ and it gets a man thinking, you know?”

Gai had nodded his head, but he also had a feeling he and Minato-san were talking about very separate things. The Hokage had pulled his hand away as quickly as he had placed it.

“Your arm, I was too rough, I can get a medic-nin to look at—”

“No, it’s alright! I know it’s not broken,” Gai had assuaged the self-conscious Hokage, “I know how my body feels—when it’s right, um.”

He had never been as painfully aware of his age when he had fumbled his words in front of Minato-san. Maybe that had been the reason why he had lost. He had been childish in his tactics, risky with his plan. No wonder Kakashi had made jounin and Gai hadn’t received any word of recommendation from his team leader.

“Your taijutsu. If I were to ask you to switch it up and master a completely new style opposite to your own, do you think you can do it within a year?”

Gai at last had picked up his head to lock eyes with the Yondaime.

“I, I can do it, but… I lost. I didn’t leave a scratch on you, sir,” Gai had stuttered; he had been surprised by the sudden question, by the sly grin the Hokage had.

Minato-san had patted the top of his blond head and joked, “You gave me a free haircut! My wife’s going to love it, she’s been telling me to get it trimmed for a while now! So — good, you can. Perfect. Then, let’s call this match… unfinished. I’d like to see how much more you can do. You have potential, Gai. Now, can you show me perseverance?”

“Yes, sir! That’s a promise!”

Minato-san had mirrored the thumbs up Gai had given him instinctively and grinned as well.

See? The battle wasn’t a loss. The challenge was unfinished.

Gai pulled his head out from underneath his pillow. Slowly, he sat up just as the night’s wind was dying. The cherry blossom branch quieted down. One year. His left arm, which Gai had treated himself, was buzzing with feeling. He carefully flexed his fingers and ignored how the digits shook. As long as it was alive, that’s what mattered.

Gathering himself up from the floor, Gai walked over to the window and shut the window. He needed to make sure to keep warm and healthy. He had a lot of training to do.

Minato-san was waiting. Kakashi, too. He had made a promise to them.

Gai would later learn with Kakashi that Minato-san had been among the fallen during the Kyuubi’s attack.

It was then when Gai learned the sorrow of someone else’s unfinished promises.

* * *

**omake;**

“So, Gai… what you said before. I’m just curious, what did Kakashi say about me and my wife?”

“Ah, that you talk about her a lot! Almost daily, he says, ‘it’s like he can’t help but mention her.’”

“Pot calling the kettle black, Kakashi… What about Gai...”

“Sorry? Did you say something, sir?”

“Nothing! Let’s go get some dango at the cart, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks to lapi, who is way too kind for letting me be co-creator in this. i am merely the devil on their shoulder whispering about the ship i haven't stopped thinking about for the last couple of years lmao. being able to toss around ideas with you has been the most fun i've had in a long time. thank you lapi!!
> 
> and to the readers haha!! thank you for reading this fic! a lot of hard work went into it and i hope that it shows! thank you again! -kay


	2. bellflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Third Hokage receives an urgent letter lost in time. Gai is offered a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter, gai is 20 years old (age roughly estimated from the canon scenes where he begs the sandaime to be in anbu). he has already gone on the mission where kakashi and itachi intervened.
> 
> also hiruzen pov because we like a challenge 
> 
> hope you enjoy. :) - lapi

The screams of joy from the Academy signaled it was already afternoon. Placing his reading glasses aside, the old man rolled back in his chair and found his weary eyes traveling to the window. Below, the children were playing, and from his tower, they looked no larger than specks of brush-flicked ink.

The man sighed, the noise coming more from his aged chest than his pendulous throat. It was a rumble of affection, a quirk from when he was younger that had grown alongside him throughout the years. Something he picked up from a long time ago, that period of his life a grain of sand gathering at the base of his hourglass.

Even in his late age, he still adored the joviality of children, never turning curmudgeonly even if they shrieked boisterously during a tense briefing. In all honesty, the old man wished his children would get married already. A selfish thought butted in, and the man knew he allowed it greater entrance by opening the door.

The old man knew he wanted to see a grandchild before he passed on.

He leaned past the frame of the window to inspect further, jutting his head out to get a better angle. It was a routine he fell back into, like a comfortable seat worn with age, but he didn't mind the seconds, minutes, and the rare indulgent hour observing the new sprouts of Konoha. But the thing was, thinking of the next generation ruefully reminded him of the previous one...

“Lord Third!” A shrill voice exclaimed.

The Third Hokage hastily drew back from the window and hid his pipe in his robe’s sleeves when one of his aides burst into his office.

“Is there a reason for the urgency?” Sarutobi Hiruzen probed, straightening up and returning to his chair. He raised two alarmed eyebrows into the furrows of his forehead at the sight of the gray-faced kunoichi before him.

Cradled in her arms was a bountiful number of scrolls and loose papers. Some were even threatening to slip. If memory served him well, Hiruzen had requested a clean up of the various record and scroll rooms they had at the Tower.

“What did you find?” He was straight to the point. There was no need to dull one’s edge around him.

His aide, Sachi, who was used to his demeanor since being his longest-serving assistant, placed a scroll onto his crowded table. It was a shabby thing, the green paper’s edges were patchy with spots of yellows, and the fraying cord around the message had been wrapped without much regard. Therefore, it was a document of utmost importance, especially when Hiruzen turned to inspect the roll and found none other than that familiar red stamp, faded yet true in its shape.

"This is Namikaze Minato's seal. Where—"

"Behind a cabinet in the mailroom. I believe its placement was an accident. If it was deliberate, sir, we wouldn't even have this. Someone would have destroyed it upon discovery," Sachi explained matter-of-factly, a trait Hiruzen favored from the middle-aged woman. Her experience in reading the situation had defused many a ninja's volatile urges, as well as her unparalleled skill in ninjutsu.

“Sachi… Thank you,” Hiruzen said after clearing the emotion that had violently seized his throat.

She bowed and left without another word. Thank that woman for her intuition. Hiruzen shook his head and placed his pipe on the desk. If Sachi found him smoking, she would have given him a concerned look and a comment about how the smoke permeated through the report papers. She would always hint at him to quit, but him being her superior, he supposed she wouldn’t cross that line.

To be sure, Hiruzen looked at the scroll again. Yes, it was still there. This was real, wasn’t it? Careful and slightly paranoid that the scroll would break, Hiruzen took his time unwrapping the thread around the width of the letter. His fingers felt for that crisp paper’s edge and unfurled it.

He had hardened his heart for the mourning he knew it would feel but did not expect to read the following in his once successor’s written hand.

_Sarutobi-san,_

_You’re in danger._

After the initial shock wore through his system, the Third Hokage carried out the rest of his task. He read the letter to the end. Next, he read it again, taking his time to examine each character, the direction of the brushstroke, and compared it to the ones stamped into his memories. Although the seal indicated the scroll had been from Minato’s desk, there was ninja out there mastered in the unscrupulous art of forgery.

However, upon countless read-throughs and genjutsu tests, the evidence was clear. This letter had come from the young Fourth Hokage, who was buried in the Konoha dirt with a stone headstone depicting his name.

“Spies within ANBU…” Hiruzen muttered to himself, trying to make sense of the words. The letter had no hasty tone of lunacy but carried a grave implication of something — someone — ready to usurp the powers of the Hokage should the opportunity arise.

_I hope in my next correspondence I may be able to give you the names of those who have chosen to live among shadows, even when there is light ahead. Maybe bringing their names to the light will force them out of their night-blindness._

Minato hadn’t known and didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. And he would never know who it was pulling strings in ANBU. A suggestion, a name, flickered like the flame of a candle before Hiruzen’s mind blew it out.

Yes, it possibly could be _him_. But to make such an accusation, even with the Fourth’s letter, would be argued as a baseless claim. It could incite a coup. Worse, a civil war. The village was in its second phase of rebuilding after the Third Shinobi War. Enraging the Daimyo, and the elders in such a manner would rain suffering upon Konoha's people.

Rubbing at his temples, Hiruzen returned to the letter where he had left off.

_But for now, Lord Third, I recommend appointing the following shinobi and kunoichi to the Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai under a special directive._

Hiruzen pondered the effectiveness of Minato’s plan. Truthfully, as much as he had cared for Minato as if he was family, the Third didn’t fully agree with the late Fourth Hokage’s affinity with impetuous hotheads. Getting to that part of the scroll, Hiruzen’s eyes widened again, although it was now his fifth run through the letter’s contents.

Ah, that name. Hiruzen remembered he had written this name a long while ago. Back when he had been a younger man, a leaf following the whimsy of his impulses. Hiruzen’s shoulders were bent with time and its regrets. He had made many mistakes, but that choice was one of the small instances where he had instinctively known — this is someone who will be a good shinobi, a great man — and recommended destiny to take a closer look. Lifting the brim of his hat, Hiruzen smiled despite wanting to be serious about the complex situation at hand.

_The recruits I’ve picked will be loyal to you, Sarutobi-san, and Konoha. I’ve already screened and tested them._

_They will be the light that guides ANBU back from the shadows._

_I know this in my heart._

“You really are sure, aren’t you, Minato?” The old man’s eyes retreated lazily to the signature at the end. Leaning forward in his chair, the man steepled his knobbly fingers together and breathed over their thin, leathered skin. The clock struck. Another trickle of sand fell. After his contemplation, he reached below his table and pressed a button.

Like clockwork, Sachi emerged from his door.

“Sir.” She held a clipboard in hand. Always the astute one.

“Send a secret invite to the following ninja and ask them to come to the Hokage Tower as soon as possible,” Hiruzen dictated, quickly going through the list of names written in the scroll. Once finished, he lifted the parchment and handed it to her. “And dispose of this at once.”

“Yes, sir.” She confirmed.

She left immediately.

Hiruzen reclined back in his chair and finally picked up his pipe. It was going to be a long night, but he had made his choice. Lighting the pipe, he inhaled in a mouthful of warm, soft pipe smoke. Closing his eyes, Hiruzen invited another selfish thought inside. A reminisce of Namikaze Minato, not the man but the academy student, who had shaken his hand so vigorously at the time Hiruzen thought the kid would pull a muscle. Hiruzen smiled against the lip of his pipe and blew out a wisp of smoke. The blond had always been so impulsive. And just maybe, Hiruzen himself was too.

By the time the last child’s laugh faded into an echo, the skies had darkened, and the temperature had dipped. The invitees had come, had drunk a cup of tea Sachi had made and had left with a simple “yes” or a “no.” In between interviews, pots of tea were made and remade, and pipe tobacco filled and refilled. Names were circled and crossed out.

It had been half-past nine when, from outside of Hiruzen’s office, Sachi let out a squawk of surprise. It was such an unusual noise that Hiruzen picked his head up from the notes he had been writing, and laid his brush to rest. He braced himself, rising from his seat when he heard the telltale pattern of footsteps coming closer, as well as his assistant’s voice calling out a name in short, panicky intervals.

“Maito-san, please—”

“Lord Third!”

The shinobi could have kicked his door down by the force of his entry. Hiruzen expected the brash arrival but had hoped Gai would have come earlier. They would have to take a look at the hinges tomorrow. From the look of the ninja’s dirtied flak vest, it seemed he had just returned from a mission. There was no rest for the wicked, but there was certainly no rest for Maito Gai as well.

As immediate as he had exploded onto the scene, Gai crumpled into a seated bow, knees landing to the floor, and in a second slid his hands toward his knees, smacked his palms against the floor (Hiruzen raised an eyebrow at how they were perfectly three centimeters apart, thumbs touching) and nearly crashed his forehead to the ground. Gai’s form was flawlessly polite as if the previous outburst hadn’t happened at all. Hiruzen struggled to keep his face blank. It was hard around this man, even for him.

“You may rise, Gai. I’ve no interest in speaking to the back of your head,” Hiruzen asserted, cleared his throat, and skipped the pleasantries, saying, “you weren’t followed?”

Gai shot up from his _seiza_ bow and nervously glanced at Sachi, who rolled her eyes.

“I don’t count, Maito-san,” Sachi sighed, more as a response from the tiring day than Gai’s demeanor.

Earlier she had made a positive comment to Hiruzen when she had received his list, smiling amusedly at seeing the name of the ninja currently waxing a long, poetic apology. Although Gai was louder than the flashy colors he sported and notoriously unique in the way he behaved, he was well-liked by the village, a place which once had shunned him and his kin. Hiruzen’s smile dissolved at their wrinkled corners.

“Then no, I have not, Lord Third! You can bet on it! If, by some rare omission of my consistent competence, I had been followed—I will make it my penitence to climb the Hokage Tower three-hundred times blindfolded and also with my hands tied behind my back!” Gai avowed and before the jounin would commit it to his mental list of tasks, Hiruzen waved a hand to encourage Gai’s idea to leave. The Sandaime really wanted to get some sleep by two tonight.

“I trust you haven’t, Gai. Sachi, will you?” Hiruzen asked simply and his aide delivered, coming in with two cups of steaming tea on a small table, and a scroll held in the crook between her side and her arm.

Hiruzen unceremoniously took off his hat to hang on a nearby clothes rack and walked over to sit opposite to the green-clad ninja. The sound jutsu Sachi had enacted on the room was failproof, however, Hiruzen wanted to take his precautions. No one could know about this meeting.

Besides, it was best they spoke close. It was best to gauge how the shinobi’s features would change at the information Hiruzen was about to share. It would tell Hiruzen everything he needed to know to make his final decision. He received the black scroll from Sachi and seated it to his left.

“Lord Third,” acknowledged Gai, respectful as always. He averted the Hokage’s gaze and gratefully took the teacup from Sachi with a polite thank you, and waited until Hiruzen took a sip before Gai allowed himself a drink.

Maybe it was Hiruzen’s age and wandering memories finally catching up to him, but it surprised him that Gai was now twenty years old. He was still young, of course, but he was not the five-year-old Hiruzen had heard screeching at the academy, and not the seven-year-old who had become a chunin with nothing but hard work morphing into talent, and not the fourteen-year-old who made jounin with Hiruzen’s blessing, who had cried tears at every single point of his tangential events with the Third Hokage but never had given Hiruzen the impression of a weak man.

“Do you remember,” Hiruzen started, eyes drifting down to the swirling moss-green of his tea, “when you came to me, a scant of a month ago begging me to put you into the ANBU? I thought, at the beginning, ‘Ah, here is another fool beguiled by the temptation of reputation.’ There have been status chasers before, and I was so disappointed in you, Gai.”

Despite hearing harsh words from none other than the Hokage, Gai’s deferential manner hadn’t changed. Though his eyebrows frowned, they were, from what Hiruzen could tell, in thoughtful accordance. Hiruzen inwardly smiled.

“Then, I was disappointed in myself for thinking such a thing when you revealed you wanted to join ANBU for a fellow shinobi. For your friend, Hatake Kakashi. I was ashamed to think you would want the fame of a position rather than the acknowledgment which came from your skills. I was wrong about that, but that’s also when I knew you would never fit the missions ANBU must do. I told you as such.” Hiruzen reminded the jounin seated before him.

There hadn’t been even a twitch of the arm or the leg, no sudden expansion of the chest, but Hiruzen was the leader of his people for a reason. He noticed how Gai’s eyes had widened just slightly at hearing a name belonging to an unavailable man, a reference in their conversation. He noted how those dark irises shadowed as they blinked down to roughened hands covered in soiled bandages.

“It’s precisely why I want to ask if you will take this mission of mine—” —No, not only Hiruzen’s, but Minato’s as well— “—and work within ANBU, but not become it.”

Those wrapped hands shook.

“Sir? What do you mean?” Gai asked. His voice sounded thin and unlike the effacing boom which shook windows and rattled cabinets. Why was he confused? Had Hiruzen made the wrong decision?

“Did Namikaze Minato ever approach you about ANBU?” Hiruzen inquired.

The words had lit something in the other shinobi, evidenced by the way he suddenly inspected his tea. Cautiously, Gai lifted his sight toward Hiruzen, and Hiruzen allowed their vision to match and look into each other for answers.

“Yes,” the boy said, “I’m sorry I did not divulge sooner, Lord Third.”

Hiruzen could not help it. Try as he might call the shinobi a man, Gai was still a child in his eyes. Everyone was. Perhaps that was Hiruzen’s greatest folly. The habit he could never break. One day, maybe this would be what got him at the end, if not the pipe smoke.

“And what did you two talk about?” Hiruzen questioned further.

Gai’s shoulders were shaking as he regulated his breathing. Hiruzen knew the jounin was holding an emotion back, something shameful which Hiruzen wondered if Gai couldn’t, or didn’t want to share.

Gai, in a manner unlike what Hiruzen normally saw from him, stammered out, “The Fourth had said… I-I don’t know if _I_ should be the one who… that is to say, Lord Third, after I spoke with Lord Danzo…”

Danzo?

“When.” Hiruzen’s voice betrayed his agitation, cutting in before Gai could trail off into wherever he was going to wind up at. The implicit command to focus brought the boy back to standard, back to the exchange of information between a soldier and his general.

“Right after, in the hallway. When we last spoke about this issue. I came across him and asked… but he rejected me, like you did, Lord Third. Lord Danzo said I lacked _darkness_. That assessment was right, sir. When I came back later, I understood why it wasn’t a place for me, but I… I still think it’s not a place for...”

Gai’s voice faded off but didn’t sound out the name Hiruzen could read on his lips. Hiruzen softly smiled at that, half-heartedly as he knew he had been one of the causes which separated the two.

“But there’s a reason why the Elders are the Elders,” concluded Gai. He smiled at the end, but it looked as hollow as the boy sounded.

Hiruzen ran through the words in his head and pushed out the tender pang of guilt. He had to stay on task and not fall into sentimentalities. According to the story, Gai had been rejected by Danzo. Minato’s letter, the theories of secrecy and another faction, it was starting to hold water. Could it be? Hiruzen’s spine fought the urge to shiver from the cold of knowing. The truth was an infallible senbon needle always hitting its mark. And Hiruzen was struck.

Yes, ANBU did not want someone like Maito Gai. But ANBU needed someone like Maito Gai.

Hiruzen did not need another somber soldier, going where the heat of blood and battle lusted in hot, frenzied nightmares. Those mercenaries had no loyalty to anyone, compelled by the depraved power to be able to choose who lived or died. Minato, he had seen it. He had seen the catastrophe before he tragically passed on. Now from beyond the grave, the Yondaime was blinking a light, a code for those who could see the patterns. Yes, these were warning signs.

“Even if one is an elder, it doesn’t always mean they are wise and without mistakes,” Hiruzen quietly offered, admitted, and finally breached the barrier of touch.

His age-spotted hand looked exceptionally decrepit on top of Gai’s shoulder against the vibrant green spandex. But the comparison didn’t bring any envy within the Hokage. Only pride of such strong shoulders.

To Hiruzen's confusion, the jounin shook his head. That same head he kept down, unsure. Gai had been wounded beneath the superficial scratches, it seemed. The rejection must have stung, more so when Hiruzen would not release _him_ , too. However this stubborn boy had never held a grudge. He would ask and ask, and ask again but he carried on smiling, didn’t he? Hiruzen wasn’t as perceptive as he thought to have caught on this late.

Stroking his graying goatee, Hiruzen wracked his brain trying to undo the damages he and Danzo had caused. Contemplative to his oversights tonight, Hiruzen wondered if all of this was just a game of shogi between him and the other man. Were other lives just casualties in their struggle to win? Darkly, he wondered if Gai would still be loyal if he could hear the Hokage's thoughts.

Ah, to have a puff from his pipe. Burn the insecurities with fiery smoke. Maybe later.

“Gai, it’s true you are different. You are not like the other prospects for ANBU; you lack darkness.” Hiruzen explained, and Gai nodded, quiet and attentive.

“But you being you is precisely what I need for this mission. ANBU has been infiltrated.” Hiruzen said.

Gai dropped his mouth but stayed silent. Their cups of tea had been fully abandoned by their kneeling sides, cooling by the second. Sachi, trusted to stay, shifted in the background. The soft susurrus of her robes was the single counterpoint to the thread-tight silence.

“There is something in the shadows, sinister and waiting. The cover of darkness, which we have used for centuries as part of our ninja way, are becoming corrupted. Something rotten grows in the dark, Gai. We need light.

“Only through bringing in the light can we see the shadows recede to their corners. Only through the light, we can see what the dark leaves behind. Can you allow your Will of Fire to become a beacon?

“You cannot tell anyone. Your teammates, your friends.” There was no family for Gai to speak to, thus Hiruzen precluded it completely.

“But you must also be you. You will have to sever yourself into two until this mission is complete. Maito Gai and whoever you must become must never, _ever_ bleed into each other. You must never let your flame go out to keep someone else warm, and you must never extinguish your light. Do you understand these terms?”

If Gai said no, Hiruzen would understand. Hiruzen knew he was asking a lot from the boy, even more than those whom Hiruzen had admitted into the death squad. Asking someone to go into Hell and come out unscathed was a tall order, after all. And yet, here he was, asking it, as he had done to countless ninja before.

“Sir!” Gai yelled instead of a demure remark. His yelp sent Hiruzen’s deprecative thoughts bolting as fast as when Gai had entered the door not too long ago. Then bringing his head back down into a bow, Gai shouted, “Thank you so much for this task! I won’t let you down! That’s a promise from this Noble Beast ready to serve Konoha!”

Gai was at his best when he grinned too broadly and talked too energetically, Hiruzen decided.

“There, there, Gai. I told you I didn't want to talk to the back of your head. Rise." Hiruzen grinned when Gai did so lickety-split. Reaching over to his left, the Hokage pulled the black scroll into view, setting the manuscript down in the space between them. He rolled it out, and let Gai read the notes.

"Your mission: find out if there is a faction that has infiltrated the ANBU. Report your findings to me monthly, who the members are, who the leader is. Until we find the source of corruption, you will pretend to be a member of the squad until given further notice by me and only me. Lastly, no one must find out who you are. With your signature and a pact of blood, you agree to these terms and will be bound to follow any new conditions which may arise. Here."

Hiruzen passed Gai the brush and the inkpot.

Gai nodded and wrote his name in the blank circle surrounded by seals. After biting his thumb open and slamming his bleeding hand onto his name, the characters lit up in a flare of green light. It was done. Gai was bound to serve.

"So! When should this Green Beast start, my Lord?" Gai excitedly bounced in his seat, totally ignoring the small line of blood running down his thumb. Hiruzen made a mental note to remind Sachi to bring the cleaners in.

Clearing his throat to calm Gai before the shinobi went on a ridiculously descriptive sermon about Youth and Responsibility, Hiruzen amended, "After you pick the squad you'd like to oversee. Then we can start immediately. Any suggestions?"

Gai brightened as if the Sandaime had offered him a present.

It was past midnight by the time the last ninja had come to visit him. Hiruzen could tell his aide was running on fumes and finally sent her home after both of them cleaned up the office. A week is what they both decided on. It would give her enough time to contact everyone for the mission, and for Hiruzen to finish his appointments.

The route to his quarters was quiet, and the crescent moon filtered in wherever there were cracks in the curtains. His footsteps echoed in their solitary pitter-patter, but the Third knew he wasn't alone. Members of ANBU were lurking in the dark. But surely they wouldn't strike now.

Exiting into a roofless bridge leading to the residential building, Hiruzen’s eyes were drawn to the hanging pots on the stone railings of the path. The pots appeared as if they held bursts of pure color, undeterred by the summer heat. Passing them by and taking a closer look, Hiruzen appreciated the subtle sweetness wafting from their close bunches. Those vivid purple balloon-heads opened up with five-petaled skirts, looking akin to stars that had fallen to earth. The sight of these bellflowers elicited a chuckle from the Hokage.

"How very apt," he muttered before resuming his walk. “ _Whimsical_ , even.”

He took one last glance at Hokage Rock, at the sharply cut features of Namikaze Minato, and smirked.

He also knew what it was like to miss a friend.

* * *

**omake;**

When Gai finally left, Hiruzen got to take a smoke break. Blowing out a hazy ring for the childish sake of it, Hiruzen muttered out loud in disbelief.

"'You lack darkness.' My god, what a pretentious and absurd thing to say." He mocked Danzo. He had no love for that old bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of our main focus with this fic was to try to give more realistic reasons as to why certain character's made the decisions they do in canon. not necessarily to make them more likable, but to help ground these choices in reality and in a way that would more make sense.
> 
> i think lapi really knocked it out of the park with this one and their take on hiruzen is what i think a certain writer that shall not be named wanted to go with his character. *coughs in kishimoto* -kay


	3. bindweed [part one]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gai's undercover mission starts off on the wrong foot. But that's okay! It'll be a challenge!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note, this is is part one of two. the entire chapter is a bit long for a single sit through, so we're posting two separate chapters for better readability. the next part will be out soon after beta reads and edits. thank you so much for reading so far and enjoying the story! we hope you are having as much fun as we are. the upcoming part will have some interesting kakashi interactions, to say the least.
> 
> no omake for the entirety of this chapter. - lapi

The birds always woke up first. In the great Konoha trees, the sparrows stirred in their nests and trilled their welcoming song just as the sunlight broke through the horizon and filtered through the canopy of thick, verdant leaves. The sparrows' city brethren, the pigeons and the crows, flew from their scavenged roosts to land on the awnings and roofs of the village’s popular district, the Konoha Marketplace. Soon it would be time for them to have breakfast.

The early bird got the occasional spill of a trader's grain, after all.

The Konoha Marketplace officially opened at six in the morning. Starting from daybreak, traders from allied nations would roll in with their wagons, bringing in fish packed in ice from the Fire Country coasts, or fresh green produce from local farms. Some even carted in foraged delicacies such as wood ear mushrooms from the deep woods that surrounded Konoha. The morning’s pale yellow sun beamed down on baskets of fruit laid out for sale, and the solar heat prickled the skin of the working men and women who were preparing for another day.

In an hour, the daylight would rise higher and the roads would be golden-brown and toasty, the smell of street food would waft throughout the open-air stalls, and a cacophony of voices would advertise their wares. Business was at its best during the lunch rush and late afternoon when civilians would lazily meander through shops and take their time picking out meals for dinner and catch up with friends in the meantime. Ninja would pop in and out whenever they had time from their missions; some shops even catered their hours especially for Konoha ninja, staying open to the wee hours of the night for irregular clientele.

However, one shinobi in particular was a stickler of self-imposed routine. Grocery shopping was right after his one hundred morning laps around the village walls. This shinobi, his name was—

"Gai-kun! Here, come over here! I've got a fresh shipment of tomatoes in," a vendor called to Gai as he weaved around a donkey-pulled wagon. Dressed in a yellow rubber apron, she was walking toward the shinobi, and pumped a thumb behind her head toward the stalls.

Stopping in his tracks, Gai squinted at the figure and wondered how she knew his name.

For a second.

Of course she knew his name! He was Maito Gai, Konoha's Noble Green Beast, a jounin of formidable taijutsu skill! His hot-blooded legacy was just beginning and already his name was on the lips of Konoha's fair people! He rushed over to greet her, as to how a paragon of Youthful Virtue should act!

Grabbing his arm, she chatted lightly about how toned his muscles were, asked if he was out buying groceries for the week, and brought him to one of the green-tented produce stalls. Gai tried to think which vendor she was, there were quite a few and all of the buildings looked so similar.

Ducking his head under her stall's tented roof, Gai watched as the middle-aged vendor released his arm to gesture at her various fruits and vegetables on sale. Although he didn't have produce on his grocery list today, Gai found that his treacherous hand was hovering over a picturesque bunch of ink-purple grapes. No, he had to budget accordingly. The Springtime of his Youth must be disciplined!

"Good morning! It's me, Chiasa-san! Remember, you bought some leeks a few days ago here? How about some tomatoes today, fresh from the village farms?" The woman smiled as she spoke, the creases around her eyes matching the cheeriness of her dimples. She tilted the large woven basket of red and orange tomatoes toward his line of sight. That name was sort of familiar…

“And those leeks were fantastic! If I remember correctly, you specifically recommended them that fateful day, and thanks to your expert suggestion, no, your benevolent advice, I made the best stir-fry leeks I’ve ever tasted! I’ve nothing but immense gratitude for all you’ve done.” Gai said, thinking back.

To his surprise, the woman — Chiasa-san — smacked him on the shoulder. Three times, to be precise. It was then everything clicked. Oh! It was _this_ Chiasa-san! Gai would never forget how solid and exact her strikes were on his left shoulder, all while laughing in that pleasantly high-pitched cackle which could rival the resplendent magpie!

“Ahahaha! Gai-kun! You’re too much, stop it, you! Stop!” She blatantly lied because she gave Gai a look which even he could read, all glittering eyes and pursed lips, to which he responded by adding another lavish praise since it was nice to do, and Gai enjoyed complimenting people.

"Your apron was, uh, red before wasn't it? Ah, but yellow suits you better, ma'am! Your skin glows like a chrysanthemum!" Gai grinned, genuinely admiring the golden hue. “But in _green_ , I think, you’d look even more youthful than you are now!”

He got hit three times again. Yes, this was she! Although he couldn’t quite pin down her features, her personality made her unique. Chiasa-san always had been vibrantly chatty with him whenever he stopped by, like an aunt Gai never had.

He didn't know when exactly it started, but Gai bought fruits and vegetables at this stall whenever he could since he started living by himself. The price was right, it was close to his place, and she carried foreign vegetables which weren't found in other produce shops, the same ones found in his father's recipes. Sometimes when the mood hit, Gai would choose a random recipe card from a small, worn Rolodex catalog perched on his bookshelf, in between his textbooks on anatomy. He’d decide to remake a dish from childhood to taste something long forgotten.

He never got it quite right like Dai used to make, but that meant more chances to try! It’s not like he could ask Papa since his father was probably busy having Springtime Dates with Gai’s mother in the Celestial Stream or whatever! Gai admitted he wasn’t very knowledgeable about religion, but one thing was for sure, he was adamant about doing things himself. Besides, Gai had been alone for almost seven years now. He liked to believe he adapted, and that Papa was watching over him proudly.

“Just between you and me, Gai-kun, you’re my favorite customer, so this one's on the house,” Chiasa-san chirruped.

Oh, he was? A blush threatened to break, starting always at his ears. Even though as part of his shinobi training Gai had to monitor his expressions, his emotive impulses were too strong to hold back! The only countenance he sort of mastered was blushing, from Gai's endless bouts with the foe known as Shame until the word had lost all meaning, and Gai wound up the ultimate victor.

But this feeling, of being appreciated so openly, made his heart skip a beat and heat to flush. Thank the heavens that his glorious hair covered his ears. He sucked in a breath to cool his mind before the redness spread to his face.

The vendor reached into the basket and pulled a fruit out. In her hands was an exquisite tomato, even-fleshed with an attractive red tint. She dropped it into his basket without his say and whispered she’d like for him to try it and to come back next time to buy more if he enjoyed it.

Flattered, he thanked her profusely, endured a few more smacks and peals of strident laughter, and headed in the direction of the fishmongers as per his grocery list.

The meat and fish shops were just beyond produce and grain, and their tents were crimson and navy, respectively. In summertime, the wares were set out with huge blocks of ice, and the premium shops even had these new-fangled, electric coolers. Since the War ended, so many things had been improving, developing, progressing. Gai let his eyes wander and accidentally matched them with a vendor to his right.

“Ah, it’s you, young man! Come now, come here,” a gray-haired man in a topknot said. Well, since he was invited… Gai jogged over and reached the glass tanks swirling with schools of fish. The fishmonger’s blue and white robes were cut at the shoulder, revealing tanned and toned arms. Although a man in his late fifties, the man's glare had that hot, hot heat of an ageless warrior that Gai could admire. His bushy beard spread when he gave Gai a fierce grin with his missing teeth.

“So, when are you going to retire and work for me, huh? I still need someone strong like you to haul the nets out of the water, you’d be great for it, y’know! I’d promise you free fish for life!” The storekeeper laughed and crossed those burly, bulging arms.

Gai chuckled, feeling a sense that he had this conversation before with this person, and replied with what he must have said last time, “I’m sorry, kind sir! My burning heart and equally burning soul are fated to be with the way of the ninja! I’m a fiercely committed man when I choose!”

“What do they pay ya? I’ll double it!” The fishmonger smacked his countertop, and Gai was about to reveal his monthly pay since the man had asked when someone else piped up from the back of the stall.

“Oh, is that Gai-san?”

Gai yelled out, “Yes!”

Coming out with a cleaver as big as her head, a pale pink-haired woman hobbled out to stand beside the man at the counter. Tip-toeing on her thin, shaky feet, she gave the old man at the counter an owlish look, appropriately described due to the huge lenses on her glasses, to which the man stepped aside, muttered something about wives not doting their husbands enough and went back into the shop. Gai had no idea what the man meant but couldn't dwell on it because the woman took the man's place, stepping up on a stool so she could peer at Gai with those gigantic lenses.

“What do you need today, my dear?” She asked in a soothing lilt, tilting her head, and snapping on two gloves. A big bun held the woman’s hair tightly bound in a perfect orb. Oh, her hair wasn’t pink at all. Upon Gai’s closer inspection, the locks were a shade of silvery-lilac.

“Any sweetfish?” Gai asked, crouching down eye-level to the fish tanks. His spandex-covered knees touched his spandex-covered chest as he leaned into the reservoir. Whatever was behind the layer of thick clear glass blew bubbles and zipped away.

“To grill? They’re too small for that, we’ll have something bigger, in a week, yes, a week.” The old woman spoke in that hypnotic rhythm. It was almost like a rolling wave, crescendoing and then falling. She tapped at a tank Gai was looking at from the other side, scattering the long, thin fish. Their silver bodies were sheets of sword metal with how sharp they turned inside the reservoir’s waters.

“We got cutlassfish. It’ll go great with just a bit of salt and sesame oil,” she cajoled.

She already had a net in hand, so Gai figured he might as well try grilled cutlassfish. It only took half a nod from Gai before her net bayoneted the tank water and pulled out a heaving, gleaming, and thrashing fish. In another universe, Gai was sure the woman would have been a taijutsu master. In fact, maybe if he asked her, she could teach him her technique! She seemed friendly enough!

“Gai-san, I can’t teach you my technique, you tried and ended up shattering all of my tanks in one-go, the mission, remember?” The woman laughed.

Breaking all the tanks…? Oh! Yes, there had been a C-rank mission a few years back to help the fishmongers with protecting their wagon from bandits in the area. Team Choza had defeated the troublemakers easily, though they had to refurbish for damages to the glass tanks. In his defense, Gai had been impressed by the way she had speared out several river fish for their lunch that day and wanted to see how he could utilize it in his taijutsu. The result had been mixed.

“Your hair was down at that time,” Gai recalled, “and… Ah! I got it soaking wet! I remember! Harue-san!”

Harue-san giggled into her free hand whilst the other one was easily holding up what was likely three pounds of seafood.

“Yes, that’s right, dear. You’re getting better with recognizing me! Now, let me clean up this fish for you and send you off your way, hmm?” Harue-san offered, brandishing her cleaver with zeal. Ah, that’s right. She was known as Sea Cutter Harue around the Konoha Marketplace.

As he waited for the fishmonger to finish, Gai leaned out of the stall to people-watch. Even in the morning, civilians would take their time examining the shops, idly chatting, their sandals slow dragging in the dirt paths. The relative calm of Konoha was something he was beginning to get used to. The Third Shinobi War had felt so long like it would stretch into forever. It was everything and anything people would talk about whenever Gai had walked this same marketplace all those years ago.

It was funny, now that he thought about it. All those years ago only made up less than a decade. The peace treaty wasn't even ten years old.

It was then Gai noticed a figure heading into his line of sight. Oh?

"Rival!"

Gai’s mouth at times ran faster than his brain did.

“Kakashi!” Gai shouted again, raising an arm to flag down his Eternal Rival. Clad in his signature ANBU armor, Kakashi trudged forward as if distracted, not even glancing in Gai’s direction. However, Gai wouldn’t be discouraged! It wasn’t the first time Kakashi acted in his standoffish but charmingly mysterious way. Though it was becoming increasingly frequent and harder for Gai to pull his friend out—no, no! Kakashi probably was lost in thought, so Gai called out to him again.

“That boy?” Harue-san murmured, but Gai’s booming voice overpowered hers. He never got to hear her finish.

“Kakashi, want to come over for dinner? I’m grilling fish! You like miso soup, right!” He exclaimed, sending a punch to the air. He couldn’t help himself, seeing Kakashi always lit a fire within him! It must be his rival’s face; Genma did say it was a face that made someone want to throw a punch.

"I challenge you to see who can pick the bones off of their fish first! If I lose, I’ll run one hundred—no! Five hundred laps around Konoha with my left hand tied to my right foot! This challenge will be an exuberant test of our dexterity and mindfulness! Every ninja should be detail-oriented and careful, as Ebisu says! So, what do you think? Dinner at my place?"

He nearly invited all of the marketplace with his volume, and why not? The more, the merrier, as long as they were willing to eat outside of his one-room apartment. Maybe everyone could have a picnic? It would be nice to have company over, specifically his cooler-than-aloof rival.

Gai had to admit, as much as he detested ANBU, Kakashi knew how to make their dull uniforms look splendid and youthful. This effortless talent was to be expected from Gai’s Eternal Rival, but being expected didn’t mean it was exempt from Gai’s praises! He would tell Kakashi how good he looked if Kakashi stopped to talk to him! That was a self-rule!

It seemed like Kakashi was coming by; he was so close. But he never stopped. He walked past Gai, eyes steely ahead, and left without a word. The only sounds were the rough rasp of his rival’s sandals on the road. Gai smiled, but he knew his jaw felt too tight. Harue-san’s noisy sigh was what pulled him out from staring at his friend’s diminishing stature going off into the distance.

“Honestly… Gai-san, you’re still friends with that rude boy? He barely acknowledged you!” Harue-san fussed. Her cleaver thwacked hard against her wooden cutting board, and the cutlassfish’s head popped right off, falling into the trash bin next to her workbench.

“Kakashi’s not—He’s not rude on purpose, Harue-san! Haha, he’s like that lately because of his work. He probably didn’t hear me, no doubt he’s got a lot on his mind!” Gai lightly said, raising both of his hands in mock worry when the shopkeeper pointed her cleaver at Gai. He just now remembered how short Harue-san’s temper was to match her height.

“Even if you have a lot on your mind, you shouldn’t shun your friends! Anyway, your fish is done. Despite what I’ve seen, I’ve filleted it for two just in case.” She plopped the plastic bag onto the counter.

“Ah, yes! Thank you kindly for your trouble!” Gai appreciated, handing her the money. The crumpled bills he had smoothed out fanned from his fingers like flower petals. To his surprise, the fishmonger pushed back one of his bills and grinned when he whined he wanted to pay more. As a response, Harue-san jokingly raised her cleaver. Gai took the hint and left with another thank you.

Leaving the market, Gai instinctively ran down the cracked dirt path, but just as he thought, when he had gotten to the crossroads Kakashi was nowhere to be seen. Only currents of faceless people flowed in a busy stream all around him.

Gai wasn’t disappointed. He also knew he was lying to himself.

Re-adjusting his bags, he headed toward his apartment and tried not to let Harue-san’s words weigh on him. The only weight training which was valid in Gai’s mind was from barbells and free weights, not—

Shunning. That's what she said. _Shunning._

Gai’s teeth crept over his bottom lip and lightly ran across it. He was older now, he reminded himself. And Kakashi would never. He was Gai’s rival and friend. Those days, where Gai had returned home beaten-up and face stricken with frustrated tears, were long lost; gone.

 _Funny_ , said the voice, _those days weren’t that long ago, huh?_

Stopping to let a cart go first at an intersection, Gai sighed and wiped at his lip with the back of his hand. He hated tasting blood. He hurriedly made his way home.

Gai’s apartment building was next to a park he liked. His home had been built during Reconstruction Phase One; these quickly and cheaply-made tenement apartments provided everyone a home, or more importantly, cover in case peace was a temporary solution. That’s what the adults had said, and at that time, a fifteen-year-old Gai hadn't been picky. He had needed a new place. So he had moved there, with Kakashi’s help, packing everything he had ever owned in just four boxes.

His one-bedroom apartment was on the tenth floor, the top floor.

“It’s a penthouse! That's what the realtor said.” He had told Kakashi once they had finished unpacking.

Kicking an empty box to the side, Kakashi had glanced at him with one lazy eye and closed the space between them, flicking Gai on the forehead, and citing there was dust on it.

Gai had been sure then, and he was sure now there hadn’t been any dust on his hair. However at that time, his friend had freely ignored Gai's little gasp of pain and flounced away. Gai had rubbed his forehead through his soft bangs. It had hurt! Jeez, Gai needed to find a way to counter Kakashi and his strong fingers for the next sneak attack the famed Copy Ninja would pull. No wonder Kakashi's Thousand Years of Pain skill was so effective...

“Stupid, this isn't a penthouse, don't believe the crap realtors say. You sure you didn't get swindled? And why did you get the top floor, in case of an attack from above, you’d be the first to get hit, you idiot.” Kakashi had stated, making himself home on top of Gai’s newly spread futon.

“I dunno. The roof seemed nice to look at the stars. Oh yeah! I really liked the apartment number, it’s ten-ten! Ten out of ten! Quite auspicious, huh, Rival?” To bolster his point, Gai had clenched and unclenched his fingers, spreading them out to show the number.

Kakashi had not been convinced as Gai had been, apparently. But he had let out a snort from behind his mask, which might as well have been guffawing out loud in Kakashi-language. His rival had retorted, giving Gai a side glance from the bed, “You know what, it makes sense you’d pick a roost like this. You're little and noisy like a wood sparrow. Just don’t drop your weights outside the window."

Gai had said he wouldn’t, and also he was sure he was actually taller than Kakashi if they weren't counting hair volume. He was about to segue into explaining how the weights worked when he noticed the strange way his rival was watching him, his one visible eye climbing slowly up and then down. He had wanted to ask what that look had meant, but Kakashi had already moved on.

"They'd kick you out. And even if you’re a half-way decent cook, I'm not letting you stay with me if that happens," Kakashi had lazily drawled while fluffing Gai's pillow before placing it back behind his head. He then had turned away, missing how Gai's face had broken into a wide smile, his heart warm with affection.

Back then, Gai had been well versed in Kakashi's odd way of expressing concern.

Now his heart ached. He couldn't help but compare the Kakashi from his memory to the one who had ignored him at the market today. No, not ignored. Kakashi was just busy. His friend was lost in whatever memory currently haunted even his waking hours. Obito. Rin. Minato-san. And, even if Kakashi would never admit it, Sakumo-san. Gai knew. He had been there. He wished he could be there for Kakashi now.

Gai’s steps on the stairs grew brisker.

He allowed his thoughts to lead him back to what he had been trying not to overthink. The Sandaime's secret mission. The mission where he was going to be a member of ANBU. Wait, not a member of ANBU. He was not-ANBU-ANBU. Lord Third had classified Gai as being a separate entity, hadn’t he? Whatever it was, it was going to be so cool. When the mission was over, he was going to brag about it in front of Kakashi! Yeah! He bet Kakashi never had a secret mission like this! See, Kakashi’s rival could be as marvelous and talented too with his own Classified Missions!

Gai's blood jolted through his body like an electric current, excited and terrified of what awaited him. This was something only he could do. The Fourth had said it in the field, the Third at his office. Gai wouldn’t let them down; he knew he could rise to the occasion, of course. He had to. Everyone was counting on him.

 _But was the light also not wary that the darkness could one day overwhelm even her?_ The voice interjected.

Gai shook his head to clear his thoughts and breathed out a sigh of relief seeing he got to the very top of the stairs. Was that in five minutes? Oops, he had forgotten to count. Shooing away that vulture in his head, he found his apartment door, grinned at the 1010 door plate, and entered his flat.

“I’m home!” Gai bellowed into his small apartment. His closed windows vibrated with the force of his greeting.

“Welcome home,” someone said from the other side of the paper-thin walls, “now, _please,_ shut up!”

“Thank you for your support, neighbor!” Gai replied to the wall.

Instantly there was a violent thumping back as if someone was kicking the wall with their foot repeatedly. Haha! Gai relished it. That’s how he and his neighbor liked to banter!

Stepping out of his sandals in the genkan and lugging his groceries, Gai passed through the narrow hallway and walked by the framed photo of himself and his father from when Gai had passed his genin test. It was a picture of Gai and Dai in tears but still smiling to the camera with their thumbs up, accompanied by the academy teacher who stood markedly to the side with a dull expression on his face. The poor teacher! He hadn’t timed his smile right!

Immediately Gai headed into his kitchen and stocked his refrigerator with the new groceries. After that, he made himself a quick breakfast, firing up the stove and a wok, and ending up with a steamy plate of eggs and tomato. Now that he cleared his dawn training and grocery shopping, he could do a few household chores before his mission summons. Gai smiled around a forkful of breakfast. Today was the day!

Finishing up his plate and meticulously washing it under less than a minute — he passed his challenge with flying colors — Gai walked back into his den and sought out the hanging calendar next to his paltry desk. Missions were circled in green, finished days crossed out with red, and blue triangles for garbage collecting. On the page, there was a crudely drawn yellow star for today, along with Gai’s note to himself proclaiming, “You can do this! Believe in the Power of Youth!”

Today was the day he'd get his first official briefing as part of the Sandaime’s special squad.

“I’m going to blow Lord Third’s expectations out of the water, just you see,” Gai told his potted pothos on his desk.

This stripe-leafed plant had been Kurenai’s gift to Gai when she learned he had moved into his new apartment. Of course, if Kurenai had gotten Gai a plant, it hadn’t been long until Asuma came by one day with a snake plant under his arm and left it at Gai’s. Reaching into his closet beside his desk and bookcases, Gai pulled out a small mister and filled it with tap water. Then he returned to take care of all of his plants.

When Genma had found out Gai had houseplants and discovered he _didn’t kill them_ , his teammate brought him one for a holiday present, a silly-looking bird nest’s fern which he had said reminded him of Gai. Ebisu, on Gai’s sixteenth birthday, had gifted him a nicely wrapped aloe vera. He ended up being shocked when Gai unwrapped Shizune’s present first: another aloe vera. At the last Rinne Festival, Raidou had said his rubber tree was dying and had asked for Gai’s help, only to abandon said plant at Gai’s place after the house party.

Truthfully speaking, it was kind of endearing that all of Gai’s friends had given him a plant in some way or another. The only exception was Hatake Kakashi.

Plants weren’t Kakashi’s thing. Gai didn’t have any expectations to receive anything from Kakashi like that, either. As if Kakashi would bring him flowers. Please! This was his rival! Kakashi tolerated flowers in his nicer moods, but normally he just stepped on floral arrangements that girls would give him.

Gai always hated seeing that, at how callous his Eternal Rival could be especially to someone sharing their affections. He would tell Kakashi to be considerate of another's vulnerable emotions, and after numerous reminders, it seemed like it paid off? For example, Kakashi never stomped on any of the flowers Gai had given him during the years of their rivalry-friendship.

By the time Gai had settled into his apartment, he had collected so many plants he had no choice but to solicit the advice of the Yamanaka Florists, which then led to him leaving the shop with newfound horticultural knowledge and a pair of potted succulents. Honestly, he didn’t even remember how they had gotten him to take home the cacti. The Yamanakas were scary-good at sales.

Humming to himself, Gai tended to all of his different plants. He knew he didn’t have time for a pet, and although he had Ningame and the rest of the tortoises, he liked the feeling of nurturing something from scratch. Seeing something he raised happily flourish and blossom, it made his chest throb with something finer than joy. Maybe that was another gift his Papa had passed onto him, a sense of fatherly devotion.

Absorbed in his meditative work, Gai hadn’t heard his alarm go off until it was in its third raucous ring and the neighbor was pounding on the walls. Cutting off the angry racket with one hand and brushing the dust off of a succulent leaf with another, he glanced at the time. Ah, it was already eight? He better get going!

“I’m leaving home!” Gai declared, once more making his apartment tremble.

“Go and don’t come back!” His neighbor’s muffled jest reverberated through the walls. Haha! What a jokester! He always knew what to say to lighten the mood.

“Sure thing, neighbor!”

As Gai left his apartment building, he noticed one side of the beige stone walls and red paneled roofs were covered with a yellowish-green vine, possibly something crossing over from the nearby park’s wire fences. Along the creeping greenery bloomed delicate white and pink trumpet-like flowers. Gai didn’t know what they were and told himself to ask the Yamanaka Florists the next time he was in the neighborhood.

When Gai arrived at the Hokage's offices in record time (twelve minutes, fifty-three seconds, two milliseconds), a plump-cheeked woman called out his name just as he came up the stairs. She was easy to spot since she was right there in the hallway. The woman appeared as though she had been expecting him.

“Maito-san! I’ll escort you to see the Sandaime.” She said, walking toward him. Her long-sleeved lavender robes rubbed against each other, and the fabric made a rustling sound.

“Ah, certainly!” Gai greeted the stranger, feeling awkward she knew his name. Maybe she was a chunin who took in the mission reports?

“Do I know you?” Gai asked. He thought it would be polite to get clarification.

The woman narrowed her brown eyes behind her black-rimmed glasses. Maybe it wasn't polite?

“Maito-san. It’s Sachi,” she said.

“Huh?” Gai frowned.

“Nevermind. Let’s go.”

Sachi-san was already on the move, so Gai followed suit. She led him into the Third's quarters, where the Hokage was waiting for him, already seated at his cluttered desk. Gai readied himself to bow, knees poised to drop, but his leader's raised hand gave Gai pause.

"You are fine as you are, Maito Gai." The Sandaime said.

"Good morning, Lord Third," Gai greeted and ended up giving a standing bow. His soul wouldn’t allow such a casual hello! Youth must always respect the Elders. This philosophy was as natural to Gai as breathing.

The Hokage accepted that token of respect at least and chuckled out his welcome before he settled in. Gai was called to the desk. He strode up and waited with bated breath for it all to begin.

This really was happening.

"I presume you're ready to get started? You will be joining a group of regular recruits for an ANBU mission soon after this briefing. For your safety, we have created you a profile with a codename, and the admins have been told you are a new ANBU support unit. Meaning, you are not active for all of their missions.

“As per the nature of this undercover mission, you will be carrying out ANBU duties as part of your cover, but you must not forget the true mission: observe any unusual behavior and gatherings, report to me of said interactions, and if possible and necessary, infiltrate the insurgents, and provide tangible evidence of the corruption.

“Finally, you must never blow your cover. If the traitors know what we are doing, they can and will take drastic counteraction. Do I make myself clear?"

Gai saluted. "As clear as Konoha's mountain streams and rivers! As clear as her beautiful air! As clear as my youthful, poised visage, sir!"

"...Right. Anyway, Sachi has your suit, made to your measurements. You will be provided a specialized version of ANBU gear, and since it's one-of-its-kind and tailored to you… hrm, well… Sachi, if you please?" The Third rolled a wrist and Sachi-san stepped up.

"Maito-san, your mask is made of special alloy to prevent any eye specialists from seeing beyond the material, and your uniform has impenetrable chakra threads woven in for the same cause. It makes your chakra signature indistinguishable. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't tear up your outfit or lose your mask, it took ages to get the jutsu to set in," the aide warned, laying down the uniform onto the desk for Gai to see.

Yes! This was what Gai had been excited about. He was going to get his mask and it was going to be very Cool and Trendy, just like Kakashi's, and depict a dangerous animal which would strike fear in the hearts of evildoers everywhere by mere sight and… and what in the world was his mask?

The white mask on the table had two rounded ears, a curvy smile, a pointed button nose, and two upwardly slanted eye slots. On top of those cheery eyes were a pair of thick comma eyebrow markings, but nothing spoke more cutesy to Gai than the two apple-red circles on the cheeks of the mask. This wasn't scary at all! Gai's gut clenched from a different sentiment, the same curling in his stomach when he had first summoned Ningame. Oh no. The mask looked _adorable_.

"This has to be a mistake," Gai bemoaned, picking up the porcelain mask to check if it was an illusion. He pinched himself and hissed the pain through his teeth. It was no prank. The mask smiled back at him innocently. _Innocently_. That's the first word that came into Gai's mind.

"What is?" Sachi-san asked coolly, hands slipping into robe sleeves and giving Gai a clueless once over. How could she not see it? Gai showed her the mask. Inspecting it for less than a second, she only raised one eyebrow in a “So what?” expression.

"I thought I would be a Fierce Tiger or a Grandiose Dragon! You know, like…" Gai emulated a throaty growl, along with characteristic hand movements for Sachi-san and the Sandaime to get a better picture. Both of them blankly stared. Then the Third coughed and his aide clicked her tongue.

"No, you're a mouse," Sachi-san said, "now be quiet like the Noble Mouse and go change, Maito-san."

Gai hesitantly surveyed the rest of his uniform, the fun drained out of him.

"Can I wear this over my jumpsuit?" He asked, looking for some leeway.

"You absolutely _cannot_ wear it over your jumpsuit, Maito-san! You have to appear like you are in ANBU! You cannot jeopardize your identity, that's what ANBU is all about!" She reprimanded.

"But Kakashi walks around in his gear with the ANBU mask off all the time!" Gai argued.

"He does _what_ now?" The Sandaime interrupted.

"Uh, where is the changing room again?" Gai meekly asked, collecting the clothes in a single swipe of his arm.

The Hokage’s assistant pointed and Gai went.

When he returned, he knew he was coming in a bit disgruntled. However, he couldn’t help himself. Things were very different from what he had expected, but he promised to see things through, so. In an act of small rebellion, Gai had his mask hanging off to the side of his head, not wanting to put it on just yet.

Sachi-san adjusted her glasses by picking up at a corner with a thumb and a forefinger. She was smiling, close-lipped but openly pleased.

“I outdid myself on this one.” She smirked and then dropped it a beat later. She squinted at Gai. “Maito-san, what is that on your back? What happened to your short sword?”

Gai reflexively reached back and checked. Oh good, his metal staff was still there. To answer Sachi-san’s question, he raised the sheathed sword in his left hand.

“I won’t be needing this, I prefer blunt weapons.” Gai tossed the sword over since Sachi-san motioned him to with a crook of her index finger. She caught it effortlessly and one complex hand seal after, the weapon poofed out of existence. No wonder she was Lord Third’s assistant!

“Fine,” Sachi-san concurred. “Was that why you’re pouting?”

Gai immediately straightened his face. He didn’t know he had been so reckless with his Youthful Sulking! He felt a bit sheepish and relayed his request with a fraction of his usual passionate ardor.

“Can we make the vest and pants tighter?”

His hands gripped the front of the baggy pants by their knees and frowned at their poofiness. He couldn’t even see his expertly carved curves in these! The pinnacle of his Youthful Devotion in mastering his body was swallowed by this fiendish black fabric!

“That’s a large size, Maito-san. It should be a little loose, I accounted for your musculature and tailored it myself.” Sachi-san’s dispute was reedy, and her fingers tapped menacingly on her crossed arms.

“But Sachi-san, how are people going to appreciate the years of hard work, the struggle, the climb up to the zenith of limits, the purlieu of hard work and talent, the crash of genius, the rehabilitation of vigor and spirit?! My body is my primary weapon!”

Gai flexed his muscles at each chapter of his journey, demonstrating the road in edifying his body to this present rendition of Youthful Zeitgeist.

“What do you mean.” Sachi-san eyed him with an unimpressed glance. Ah, maybe Gai had to take his time to explain to her what the spandex meant beyond its definition of flexibility, resilience, and breathability! She wasn’t ignorant, just uninitiated!

He filled up his lungs with a huge breath for a speech and it fizzled out when the Sandaime cleared his throat.

“Gai, your outfit is tight enough. Don’t worry, people _will_ notice. Let’s move on,” the Hokage directed.

“Right! So, Lord Third, which youthful and wiry recruits will I be molding into fine ninjas?” Gai asked, punching into his palm.

He couldn’t wait to see his team. He hoped they would be as exhilarating as Gai had made them up to be in his head. He imagined one would have blue hair, and just maybe his squad and Kakashi’s team would have to work together, and Kakashi would be so impressed with Gai’s leadership, and would have to acknowledge him in ANBU, and add a point to Gai’s score! This would teach Kakashi to count Gai out and _not-ignore_ him earlier this morning.

Gai closed his eyes, lost in reverie, fist clenched with the thought of glory, and waited. And waited. Any minute now. Sandaime, say the word. The Hokage stayed silent until Gai blinked and caught sight of his leader and the assistant sharing a look.

“What do you mean ‘molding?'” Lord Third questioned as if he too was taking his time to figure things out.

“Don’t I oversee? You said,” Gai started. That got the Hokage’s eyebrows to jump right into his hat.

“Gai. You’ll be overseeing suspicious activity. Being a squad leader means all the attention will be on _you_ , which is the opposite of what the mission is about. You’re also remarkably _new_ to ANBU missions,” the Hokage explained, sighing and shaking his head.

“Maito-san, you’re not going to be leading a squad. You’re going to be part of one,” Sachi-san added, fixing her glasses again.

Huh? Part of one? Gai’s mouth dropped as he edged out in a strained plea, “But you wanted my suggestion—”

“And I took it. You said you wanted a squad like Kakashi’s. So Sachi cut the middle man out and asked the administration to put you into Team Ro,” answered the Sandaime.

Gai could not compute.

“I… I’m in... Kakashi...” He said in a daze. But? But!

“Yes, you’re in Kakashi’s team. In fact, you’ll be under him.” Sachi-san clarified.

Gai wanted to pass out. He wanted to scream for joy. Both fear and thrill wrestled within him, each not giving the other an inch in the sparring ring of Gai’s mind. It was true he wanted to be with Kakashi in ANBU for the sake of supporting his rival, but he had also been looking forward to having his ANBU mission and being special—no. No, he would not go down this path. Jealousy embittered and aged a spirit, his Papa had said.

He was Maito Gai, with his path to prove himself. What he had anticipated before was him getting carried away by his competitive nature. It was the mirage of someone else’s dream, not truly his. Gai didn’t want to be the best ANBU member. He wanted to protect his friend. This was certain as the beating of his heart. Gai took in a reassuring breath, found strength back in his legs, and nodded his agreement to the terms. If succeeding his mission meant having Kakashi’s back and getting Kakashi _back_ , then that was two birds, one stone.

“Alright. I prepared a henge—”

“That’s not necessary, Maito-san. Due to the secret nature of ANBU, headquarters has extraordinarily strong genjutsu displacement measurements in place. Any illusory transformation spells, be it face, body, or voice will be immediately negated. Body or mind swaps will be caught immediately by guards trained to look for fakes.” Sachi-san informed him.

Ho? A challenge. Good thing Gai also had an ace up his sleeve.

“Well, that’s fine! I’ve been practicing modulating my voice to speak in a completely different pitch!” Gai bragged, hooking a thumb to himself as he grinned with sparkling teeth.

“Ah, that’s great. Let’s hear it!” Sachi-san pressed her palms together in a quiet clap.

Gai cleared his throat and let out a warbly hello.

Sachi-san nearly deflated in half. The Sandaime let out a soft hiss and leaned back in his chair.

The assistant flat out said, “Don’t do that again.”

Gai coughed awkwardly. That bad, huh?

Sachi-san crossed behind Gai to pick up something and returned, saying, “Your codename is Nezumi. It might be better if you stay silent like the Noble Mouse. Just take in information, Maito-san. It’ll be easier not to slip up if you never say anything.”

“Nezumi?” Gai tried out the name.

“Yes, that’s right. Alright, here’s this as well.” She handed Gai a black wig.

“What?! You want me to cover up my hair? It’s this magnificent style which my enemies fear and my devotees revere!” Gai had never been so offended in his entire life and glared at the wig with unfiltered Youthful Vehemence.

“Maito-san, one look at your bowl cut, and everyone can tell it’s you. I altered the lace front so you can still keep your… uh, bangs? Anyway, think of it as hair extensions! It clips on with chakra, so you don’t have to worry about it falling off! And! It’ll automatically attach to your mask so when you take it off, the wig comes right off too! It’s my ingenious invention. Besides, it’s a safety measure in case your hood slips off.”

Gai thought Sachi-san sounded like she was showboating; she sure looked like it. She was seconds away from bouncing around as she pointed out all the features of her inventions. And she had gone into her explanation with such intensity, a huge change from the understated behavior earlier. But that would be silly for a Hokage’s assistant to be so enamored in her work, no?

Yes, it wasn’t nice to assume. So, back to the wig. Ugh. It felt nothing like his lustrous hair, which he brushed fifty times each morning and a hundred times each evening as part of a lesson in Youthful Diligence. Did he have to…?

As he had been too busy glaring daggers at the wig, Gai hadn’t noticed Sachi-san hovering next to his left shoulder until he felt the slightly rough texture of her robe's sleeve. But it was too late. There was a sudden slap, a yelp, and the sequence ended with Gai rubbing at his stinging arm with alarm.

“What was that for?” Gai demanded and Sachi-san indifferently pointed at his shoulder, unintentionally giving Gai an impression of Kakashi as she reverted to an impassive face. Damn all these Cool and Mysterious types.

Pouting, he uncovered his hand, and underneath was the red ANBU tattoo over his tan skin. He must have made some kind of awed look since Sachi-san puffed out her chest. She grinned with all of her teeth, and Gai noticed a gleaming gold canine tooth.

“It’s a special chakra-infused ink. It won’t come off in water, sweat, any type of liquids. Any. It’s been tested, so don’t bother trying.” Sachi-san gave him a disgruntled glare. As if! Gai would never!

She continued, listing an imaginary item off of her finger, “I’ve also sent a package to your apartment, Maito-san. In it will be a bar of sky blue soap. That is the only thing that will remove the ink. Please erase the tattoo immediately when you finish your ANBU-related missions. Remember, you also have to be Maito Gai in public, and Maito Gai is—”

“—Not ANBU. Yes, I know,” Gai finished. Knowing he had to, he took the dubious wig and fixed it over his head. He frowned when he saw his reflection in the nearest mirror. When the wig was on, it looked _real._ He looked like when he had been five years old, with fine black hair which brushed his shoulders. Before Papa had given him his iconic haircut which he had kept up to this day in honor of that memory. Gai ignored the tickle inside his throat. Sachi-san, for some reason, made a cooing sound.

Shoulders dropping as he swallowed his pride, Gai finally covered his face with the mask. It was heavier than he had thought, but porcelain wasn’t known to be a light material. After adjusting the straps to his liking and making certain it wouldn’t slip, Gai checked the mirror for the last time.

Ah. He looked different, uncomfortably so when he realized he couldn’t recognize himself. Slipping on a modified, hooded black robe which cut off at his knees, Gai searched for a face in the mirror which was no longer there. Pulling the hood on, Gai stifled a disbelieving laugh. He was exclusively Nezumi now, he supposed.

It was startling, yes, but maybe… maybe he could pull this off? No, not maybe! He would! He was still Maito Gai inside! A bright, burning epitome of Springtime Youth! And his Springtime was Everlasting! Perennial!

Regaining his vigor, Gai looked back to see the Third Hokage nodding. It was weird behind the mask, his vision had been minimized in scope like a tunnel. No wonder Kakashi stared for long periods at Gai whenever his rival wore his ANBU mask.

“Gai, the ANBU briefing will be in half an hour, and Sachi will take you directly to headquarters. This is not an easy mission, and failure means…” The Sandaime purposely trailed off and threaded his fingers together. There was a kunai’s glint in the look the Hokage gave. Not one to hurt Gai, but passing the knife to arm him for the danger to come.

Gai understood and accepted the counsel. He would take this seriously for the sake of Konoha. He stretched out an arm and grinned behind his mask, giving the Third Hokage his iconic pose of promise.

“Sir! This beacon is ready to light with the immortal, persistent flame of a phoenix! I said it before and I’ll say it again, you can count on me!” Gai vowed.

The harsh frown lines on the old man’s face softened, and Gai’s chest warmed with knowing the Third Hokage could rely on him.

Sachi-san as well clapped her hands and wished Gai good luck before taking her position next to his side. She slid a hand down to the small of Gai’s back, and he frowned at how oddly hot her hand felt against his clothed skin. It was strangely intimate.

“We’ll be back, Lord Third,” she said.

“Best of luck, Gai. Heaven speed.” The Hokage said.

It was the last thing Gai heard before the world suddenly shifted. All he heard was the fast rush of air around his hood and then there they were. ANBU Headquarters. The sun was heading towards the center of the sky, but the properties in the distance were mired in shadow. Sachi-san pulled her hand away from the base of Gai’s spine but his skin still tingled until that warm thrumming finally faded away.

The ANBU Headquarters were in a rocky region Gai could tell was in Konoha, but a location he couldn't pick out. It was evident he had never been here, notwithstanding his ardent passion in exploring all of his fair homeland. There were two dome-roofed buildings, overrun with grime on their grayed out exteriors, giving the impression of abandonment. It wasn’t a new sight; after the War, there had been entire ghost neighborhoods.

Thinking of spirits made a shiver creep up Gai’s back. Or he hoped it was a shiver. Gai looked off to his side, his sightline barreling down the rocky contours and the ridges. His eyes landed at a glimpse of Konoha below, a miniature of its grandeur, yet blooming so prettily with her greens and golds, alike a fine patchwork sashiko quilt. He and Sachi-san were so high up. Really, where were they?

“We’re on top of Hokage Rock, behind a secluded mountainside,” Sachi-san divulged in an undertone. “You might need to meet someone here in the future, Maito-san, so I’m entrusting you with this information. I believe you’ll keep this knowledge to yourself. No need to reply, just nod.”

Gai nodded. It was a heavy nod, one he wasn’t used to. But he would need to be.

“You’ll be going in there, the place with the low, curved roof. The other one with the spire is where the administration works, eats, lives. They never leave and will never need to, unless something has gone _amiss_ , you hear?” The Hokage’s assistant finger traced the outline of the far off tower, and Gai nodded, practicing keeping in character for his new persona.

Relaying the last of her directives, Sachi-san took in a breath and blew it out in one, long stream. Unbeknownst to her, she inadvertently aired out Gai’s own nerves. It was surprisingly reassuring to know that even over-prepared Sachi-san was getting the jitters.

“Out of all the recruits for this mission, I worry about you the most,” Sachi-san said and patted Gai on the shoulder. “Don’t ever change, Maito-san.”

With that, she flashed out.

Beneath his mask, Gai furrowed his eyebrows as he wondered what she meant by that. Well, he couldn’t dwell on that now. Taking a deep breath and letting Konoha’s sweet summer air rejuvenate his spirit, Gai stepped forward, heading toward the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are gai stans first people second -kay


	4. bindweed [part two]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gai learns what it means to be ANBU material.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, the top and bottom notes will be joining for once haha.
> 
> Some themes in this chapter are not suitable for all audiences. If anyone is sensitive to any of the new warning tags and rating change, please feel free to skip the chapter. Major events will be recapped in the next chapter so please do not worry about missing out on important plot points. We will also include a pair of symbols indicating sections where viewer discretion is advised. 
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter include not canon-typical graphic violence, language, mild gore, and depicting death (child). When you see the ¤ symbol, it refers to the beginning of the aforementioned content, and the ✶ symbol refers to the end of that passage. We recommend using these symbols as warnings before reading forward, or using them to skip sections should you wish to read through the chapter but avoid these scenes. Thank you and stay safe. - lapi & kay

The ANBU building lobby had an uncannily clinical ambiance. The floors and walls were a dreary hospital room color of off-white, and suitable to the comparison, there were several counters with porcelain-masked clerks in white uniforms, attending to ANBU visitors in low voices. Behind the safety of their barred stations, these clerks passed unaddressed envelopes, exchanged scrolls, stamped books, and asked for the next person by raising a hand.

Gai was next. He quickly scampered to the empty booth and nervously shifted as he stood in front of the masked clerk — some type of squirrel? — who pointedly stared at him. Without warning, his body felt like he had been doused in ice, and right as the muscles seized at the unexpected assault, the pain dissipated. The temperature returned to normal.

“Initial clearance granted. Who are you?” the clerk asked in a stripped-down whisper.

Oh, the clerk must have finished the genjutsu protocols Sachi-san had mentioned. Digging into his robe, Gai pulled out the scroll he received from the Hokage and placed it on the counter. Through the small opening, a long, white hand snatched up the document. The paper rustled as the clerk unfurled and examined the letter. A moment later, they closed it back up.

“I see you’ve already received your uniform early, Nezumi.” The clerk commented.

A ' _yes'_ was about to leave his lips before Gai’s mostly absent impulse control kicked in and snapped his lips shut. Instead of blowing his cover before the mission even started, Gai nodded twice, but too quick for it to have been casual. The clerk stopped what they were doing to stare at Gai. Shit.

The excruciating silence could not pass quickly enough, but thankfully it did. Resuming, the clerk turned to pull something out of a cabinet, placed it down on their side of the counter, and zipped their brush across it.

“Here’s your bingo book, and your new pass. Do not lose these.”

There was a slap of a red stamp onto a nondescript looking white scroll, and before Gai could blink, that scroll and a palm-sized orange book were neatly pushed toward him from the gate.

“Head down but don’t get lost. You might not be able to find your way out in the dark.” The whispering voice was saccharine, and honey-sticky words dripped inside of Gai’s ears.

Gai’s mouth felt gummed up as he silently forced himself to agree, dropping his head only once this time. With a queasy stomach, he made off with his new belongings and followed the other ANBU members to the only door aside from the main entrance.

There was no physical door, just an opening revealing nothing more than a large, cement staircase heading down. Gai figured the lax-looking security was a front for those foolhardy enough to try to bum rush through the lobby. Naturally, ANBU relied on the element of surprise.

It was now or never. Gai descended the stairs, telling himself not to rush the steps as he normally would. He was Nezumi, and Nezumi had to observe everything.

The unchanging steps seemed to go on forever, but the walls around him grew darker with each completed flight. The air cooled, no longer the warm breath of summer, and the stench of earth, moss-ridden and fungi-damp, permeated the senses. The last of the seemingly endless stairs opened up to a small refuge area, bland like the establishment which presided above. When Gai made his exit out of the small structure, he realized the area was merely the bridge to another pathway.

A craggy tunnel stretched as far as Gai could see. To his left and his right, there was nothing to indicate where to go. The dark passageway was slightly visible by the strings of blue-white fluorescent bulbs embedded in the sides of the man-made cavern, however, the artificial light wasn't enough to push back the dark. All it did was wash a sickly color over the rich earth.

Was Gai underground, underneath fair Konoha? Was this where Kakashi went every morning, and left every night, a man unclaimed by grave dirt, passing through tunnels which could house the remains of the dead? It would be so easy to lose one’s way here. There were no markers, possibly on purpose to deter unwanted visitors, or even trap them in these winding tunnels with no hope of ever escaping back to the sunlight. Gai was sweating under his gloves. Its texture, like sealskin, made his fingertips itch. He missed his bandage wraps. The warning from the clerk nipped at his ears.

However, he reminded himself, he had studied the maps. Sachi-san even tested him before she left. Yes, this was new and awkward and unfamiliar. But muscles broke, re-stitched themselves, and grew stronger. The body built resistance over time, but only if it went through those hardships. He had persevered before, hadn’t he? He must continue the journey.

Determination burning soft but steady, a slow smolder of incense than a roar of a pyre, Gai planned his next move. He decided to tag behind two whispering ANBU members who were coming up in the distance. It was easy to tail them. They were consumed by their inaudible conversation, and Gai was so, so quiet. The darkness was dense; it delicately smothered all sound like a gentle murderer. He couldn’t even hear his footsteps. Maybe it was because his heart was so loud in his ears.

At a fork in the road, Gai took the right to head toward the barracks. He did not need the armory. Naturally, his weapon of choice was his body but he had to admit the weight of the staff on his back was reassuring. He had kept up the skill ever since Minato-san had asked him to bring something new all those years ago and Gai was excited to show off his hard work, even if it wasn’t for the Yellow Flash.

With dismay, Gai finally arrived at the uninviting barracks. He had expected more from the meeting ground and practice gym for all ANBU, but he was coming around to accepting the organization’s stoic theme. A top-heavy roof bunkered down on a squat two-story structure, and various pipes ran into the building like the last legs of a broken spider’s web. A humorously large, octagonal sign with the kanji _An_ defined the front, and the morose walls had seen better days. There was either a smear of faded forest green paint or a layer of dried out moss that lined the edges of the barracks’ outer walls and the railings on its second floor.

Gai craned his head all around, taking in every detail in case there was something that even a newcomer like him found odd. He supposed, in hindsight, his imprecise meandering was a bad idea, as when he entered the barracks he full-on crashed with an unknown stranger. He and the other person swiped shoulders, and both metal vambraces softly tinged in the conflict. The ninja swore at Gai, calling him a shithead, and already marched off before Gai could utter a sorry.

In the scuffle, Gai saw a flash of wild orange-brown hair, and what looked like a hook coming out the side of the member’s mask before the figure entered a room and slammed the sliding door. Right! A room! He had to find his meeting room for Team Ro.

The barracks’ drab khaki gray walls at least had signs, and Gai quickly found the listing. Meeting Room Wa, it was that way. Heartbeat knocking against the armor, he rushed — this time mindful of any surprise encounters — and found the door. Perfect! This was it. May The Power of Youth, Springtime, Papa, the Memory of his Spandex, and the Will of Fire grant him their boon!

Gai slid the door open and jumped, not expecting the immediate, “Two seconds too slow and you’d have been late. At least you’re punctual, there’s one more of you I have to wait on.”

It was Kakashi’s voice, flat and hard like the edge of a shuriken.

And there he was, Gai’s Eternal Rival, standing in the center of a group of masked ninja, arms loosely crossed. Even if Gai had trouble differentiating who was who sometimes, there was no mistaking that tone and silver hair. Plus, he had seen Kakashi’s ANBU mask numerous times. The short, pointed ears; the large, almond eye slots; and the red whisker-like flourishes on its white porcelain surface had imprinted in Gai’s memory.

So Gai was on time? Alas, how disappointing! Despite the fact his squad leader was Kakashi, Gai enjoyed a First Good Impression and being early… Huh? Kakashi was reaching out with a gloved hand. Wait, was he reaching for Gai? Did he mean to shake Gai’s hand as a captain to his teammate, creating a newfound bond? Well, sure! Gai slowly raised his—

“You. Where’s your scroll?” Kakashi’s ask was a command, and his outstretched hand impatiently wagged its fingers.

Gai nearly fumbled the scroll from his pocket when he shot his hand inside the fabric in a harsh pivot. Nope, no handshake! Kakashi wanted the scroll, obviously! Haha!

In his haste, he almost shoved the document into Kakashi’s hand but the shinobi was quick on the uptake, smoothly extricating the scroll from Gai’s sweaty grip and reading the letter in one fluid motion. Kakashi’s vambraces caught the fluorescent lights as he lifted the scroll high, letting the unnatural white rays shine through the paper.

“So you’re the one the admins say is mute. 'Nezumi,' huh?” Kakashi’s mask tilted back to look at Gai for a stint and returned to the scroll. “That’s funny.”

Kakashi’s bored tone was fresh and effortlessly savage. Gai could weep tears at how cool his rival was, but wouldn’t risk soaking his uniform. Standing up ramrod straight, Gai nodded once and gave Kakashi a salute. Oh. Maybe he shouldn't have? Was Nezumi a saluter? Or was that Gai?

Kakashi cocked his head and there was a stare. Gai kept form and preened, hoping his rival was checking him out — perhaps thinking of how great the new recruit was!

“Move aside, you’re blocking the door. We’re waiting for all of the recruits to do intros before briefing and heading out.” Kakashi pushed the scroll back to Gai, hitting him in the chest just as the door slid open once again.

“You’re late.” The dog snapped at the door and pulled his hand off of Gai. Gai caught the scroll before it fell.

“Sorry! Sorry! I took a left instead of a right!” Shouted the newcomer.

Kakashi left without a word to size up the flailing ANBU. Gai belatedly thought his chest stung. The group dispersed to reform a circle around Kakashi near the door. Gai followed, squeezing in between a small figure and a tall frame.

“Now that everyone’s here, we’re going to introduce yourselves. You, the one who doesn’t own an alarm clock, you go first.” Kakashi singled out the tardy member.

“Uh, I’m Warui, fourteen years—”

“Are you an idiot? Don't tell us that. Codename. If you survive and make it to the locker room after our mission, then, we’ll go over pleasantries,” Kakashi interrupted.

The Warui Person winced, and Gai felt a sympathetic one as well fluttering up his back. _What was that about, Kakashi? You didn’t have to be that demoralizing!_ Gai would have berated his friend if he could.

If the ANBU recruit’s shrew mole mask could sweat, its droopy conical nose would be drenched by now.

The latecomer tried again, sobering up, “You can call me Himizu. Uh, scout unit. I look forward to working with you all.”

There was a chorus of scattered welcomes, and Kakashi indicated at the next one to go with an impudent finger. This mask was patterned and beaked, like a quail. Long, navy-blue hair streamed behind the mask.

“I'm Uzura, medical ninjutsu specialist. I will do my best to support the team,” they said with a stiff but polite bow. Uzura’s voice was higher and melodious compared to Himizu.

There was another litany of hellos and above the fray of voices, Kakashi stood out with a cutting, “Yeah, whatever, just don’t choke. That just means that who lives and who dies is in your hands. Hope you got steady fingers.”

Uzura offered no verbal response. They simply shook, a barely-there movement under the surface. From fear, or anger stemming from their new squad leader’s words, Gai didn’t know.

If Kakashi noticed, he didn’t seem to even care. Without missing a beat, Kakashi was on his next target, pivoting toward a different section of the group, angling at Gai.

“Since you—” Kakashi pointed right at Gai, who jolted up, “—are mute, I’ll read your introduction from the profile card. Codename: Nezumi. Specialty: taijutsu. Gender: male. Height: one hundred eighty-two centimeters. Weight: seventy-four kilograms… oh? Just that?”

Gai blushed and fought in vain to stop. He was trying to get more gains, Kakashi! It wasn’t his fault he was losing weight! He didn’t have enough money to buy some new training weights to maintain building muscle. Not to mention, he felt like he still had a little more growing to do. Anyway! This was so Rude, and not Hip and Trendy at all!

“Hair color: black, eye color: black. Meh, how boringly average…” Kakashi drawled.

The senior group members were uncomfortably silent while some of the newcomers shifted anxiously. It felt like they didn’t know whether this was a test or something _else_. Gai held his breath, wanting it to end, but Kakashi kept on going, listing other factoids that just piled on and on. Gai bit down on his already sore bottom lip. No, he mustn’t talk… even if his rival would benefit from a friendly smackdown and a lecture on manners… Youth… Persevere… Endure… Endure!

“Clan: unknown. So, nothing special to live up or compare to.” There was something dark and bitter in the way Kakashi said that part.

Gai didn’t like this. He hated this Kakashi.

“Mask: …hamster.”

_Bang._

Gai didn’t realize he was the one who stomped his foot until the meeting room shook beneath his sandal. Everyone stopped to look at him, even Kakashi flickered his gaze from the information card. No one said anything and the dog raised its snout in the air.

“Oh? Does the _Hamster_ have something to say?” Kakashi taunted, finally shoving the notecard into a pocket.

Taunt? Ah, that was it. Gai got it now. He gritted his teeth.

Kakashi was goading him. He thought Nezumi was faking it; he was checking to see if Gai would break, wasn’t he. Well, Gai was Kakashi’s Eternal Rival under this costume. Even if he had to play the role of a subordinate, he wouldn’t give Kakashi an easy win. They were rivals after all. He released the tension in his shoulders and unset his jaw.

Gai shook his head at the question, at Kakashi’s antagonism. He made a cross with his arms, saying _no!_ He wouldn’t fall for Kakashi’s provocation. He hooked a thumb at himself, and once he held everyone’s attention, he lifted his hands to his mask’s mouth, keeping them close, and lightly curled his fingers. After that, he closed and opened them in a five-fingered pinch as if they were teeth gnawing on an invisible loaf of bread. _Come on, understand me…_ Gai implored his head.

“Oh! You’re a mouse?” One of the senior members said.

 _Yes! That’s right!_ Gai wanted to say, but since he couldn’t, he pointed at them and nodded vigorously. The ANBU clapped their hands together and let out a pleasant laugh, pleased they got it right. Before he could stop himself, muscle memory spurred Gai’s limbs. He gave the answering squadmate a thumbs up and a grin, thanking them for getting it — ah. Oh no.

He did his Nice Guy Pose.

Gai’s eyes scanned left to check out Kakashi’s expression, but that dog mask betrayed no emotion. The dog was just staring imperceptibly. Stupid, stupid! Why did Gai do that? Now his cover was gone.

There was another silence until a few of the Team Ro's members cracked up, filling the once rigid room with a choir of laughter. Gai slowly put his hand down and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, which only got the room to laugh louder.

“Don’t encourage _Nezumi,_ ” Kakashi muttered.

In his periphery, Gai caught sight of the dog cocking his head, but the mask's tunnel vision blocked his sight. Was Kakashi looking at him? Was Gai imagining things? How did anyone see through these masks! When Gai turned his head to check, Kakashi was talking to the ANBU next to him. The tension passed. The mood even felt lighter, somehow.

“Alright, core squad, quickly introduce yourselves. We don’t have enough time for a full briefing, thanks to some people.” Kakashi aimed the barb at Gai, who fumed inwardly. Kakashi was the one who decided to take his time reading Gai’s weight out loud, thank you very much!

On cue, right next to Kakashi was a pouting, wide-eyed cat who raised their hand. On their face were green and red slashing stripes.

“Hello, I’m Neko.” Their messy mop of light brown hair shook when they put their hand down.

“Mangusu here,” said the member who had gotten Gai’s mask right. Their carefully combed purple hair flowed freely down to their shoulder blades. The teammate’s mongoose mask had two dots for eye slots, and three thin red lines decorating the porcelain. One red stripe curling down the forehead, and a slice up each side of the cheeks gave them a fierce expression. Much like the strong animal which could kill snakes! Gai immediately decided he liked Mangusu.

The tall frame standing on Gai’s right bore an owl mask with red and blue swirling markings, like an owl’s facial disc. They wore a high, tight dark brown ponytail. The owl whispered like their namesake, calling themselves, “Fukuro.”

The short figure on Gai’s left wore a drawn-out snouted mask with a big red triangle pointing down from the top of its head. Two beady eye slots turned to face the new members. This ANBU member was a kid. They had to be a kid; they were as short as Himizu, maybe even shorter.

“Itachi,” said the weasel mask. Itachi?! Like the Uchiha? It'd be kind of lame if Itachi got assigned a weasel mask.

On a closer look, Gai fully recognized the ANBU to his left. Yes, it was definitely Uchiha Itachi. The recognition caused a wave of discomfort. This was the small boy he had watched annihilate a group of shinobi with Kakashi.

He didn’t want to think too much about what else the boy had experienced since that joint mission. Gai winced internally when he realized exactly how young Itachi was but Itachi was like Kakashi in that regard, wasn’t he? ANBU at his age…

There was the dull tap of a sandal on cement. The ANBU all turned to the source of the sound, respectfully quiet in the presence of the last speaker. Gai, behind his mask, quirked an eyebrow.

“And I’m Inu. Your captain.” Kakashi apathetically concluded. “You’re all in Team Ro now, so you’ll be following my orders. Obey me and you’ll live. Disobey me, and we’ll be doing this again with another batch of recruits. Hopefully, they'll be quicker on the uptake than you lot.”

Ah. So that's why there had been an opening in Team Ro. Kakashi had lost another teammate. Gai’s fist clenched as tight as his throat. Despite Kakashi’s gallows humor, Gai knew. There was a sadness Kakashi clumsily tried to bury with his last comment. They had been rivals since childhood after all, and even if Kakashi said he didn’t care for it — Gai understood he was one of the few living memories left of his friend’s childhood, a constant reminder that it once existed.

Gai wished he could take off his mask and hug his friend, offering reassurance that Kakashi’s leadership wasn’t what led someone to their death. His friend was no team-killer. No reaper.

But Kakashi, oblivious to Gai's thoughts, nimbly continued, “We’ll be getting into the briefing now. I won’t repeat myself so listen up, especially you two, Himizu and Nezumi. Our mission is to eliminate hostiles coming from a town at the border between Hidden Leaf and Grass.

“Intel has told us there are factions upset with the results of the Third Shinobi War. They have a small but deadly battalion armed with explosives. They aim to attack Konoha’s least developed neighborhoods still in Reconstruction, inciting the countries to war again.”

Gai uneasily pictured what would happen if these people succeeded. Konoha’s poor were the ones still struggling to get their lives back together, and an attack on the nation’s weakest always brought his blood to a boiling point. Peace had just started becoming the norm.

“Our objective is to go in and neutralize all targets. Since no one must know Konoha is behind this attack, we’ll have backup from Cleanup this time. Newbies, support the core squad. Keep watch and protect the core from getting picked off. If anyone gets too close to you, you have my permission to kill on sight."

Gai's blood ran cold. On sight? He knew that his morals would be tested during this mission but he hadn't expected it to happen so fast. Grimly, under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the meeting room, Gai wondered if he'd be able to fulfill his mission. Could he truly separate Maito Gai with whoever he had to become? What about what Sachi-san had said?

"Okay. Any questions?”

Before Himizu could raise their small, shaking hand, Kakashi butted in.

“Wow, lucky me. No questions. Let’s head out. Oh, and remember not to die.”

Kakashi pushed open the sliding door, and the core team headed out, passing by their captain all business-like. They looked like they were used to these briefings with their leader. As Uzura went to leave, followed by Himizu and Gai, Kakashi thrust his arm against the door’s frame to block the path.

“Oh yeah, newbies. One more thing. You know your shinobi rules, right?” Kakashi asked, so sweetly Gai knew the squad captain was picking on them again. Gai refused to play along and stood unflinchingly.

Himizu, the Kakashi uninitiate, piped up, “Yes! A shinobi must see the hidden meanings within the hidden meanings! A shinobi must never show their tears during a mission! A shinobi must always put the mission first!”

If Himizu was expecting praise from Kakashi, they were solely disappointed when Kakashi let out a tasteless chuckle.

“Are you sure there’s nothing more important than the mission? What about your teammates?” Kakashi was messing with the kid. Gai didn’t understand the angle.

Himizu was thinking hard, rubbing the long nose of their shrew mole mask while the gears turned in their head.

“Nope! Nothing’s more important than completing the mission! Isn't that right, Captain Inu?” The ninja sounded like an eager puppy, trying to find a way to bond with its master.

“God, you’re fresh out of the Academy, aren’t you?”

It was the only warning Kakashi gave before he hauled Himizu up by the collar — but Gai stepped in, clamping down onto Kakashi’s wrist.

Gai felt electricity shoot down his spine when the dog abruptly turned to look at him. The angle of the mask and the rays of the lights above lined up perfectly, showing something lurking in the shadows of the dog mask. Gai could see Kakashi’s eyes, one coal Hatake black, and one crimson Uchiha Sharingan hidden in a cloud of dark. They widened and then crescented in a mouthless smile.

However, the dog never lost sight of Gai. Those two eyes trained on him, ready for any opening. Sweat prickled on the back of Gai’s neck. Was Kakashi going to discipline him for insubordination? He loosened his grip, and his squad leader’s eyes darted to look at the change in pressure, and then returned to stare directly again. Gai hoped his own eyes weren’t visible. He felt naked, like Kakashi could _see_ through him.

“You’re fast. Better be faster when it actually counts. Anyway,” Kakashi said as he leisurely dropped Himizu, who was hacking wetly, “I'm letting you off the hook this time, but only because of what your teammate did just now. Consider it a ‘hands-on’ lesson and remember this, Himizu. Those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”

Uzura was kneeling to attend to Himizu, who was presently spitting and coughing on the floor. Kakashi stared at them passively for a second before he gave Gai one more indescribable glare, and lastly crossed the threshold of the door.

“Be ready to depart in a minute, or we’ll be leaving. I’ll be marking you as absent and kicking you out if you’re not ready in time.” The squad leader barked.

To add insult to injury, Kakashi slammed the door on them.

* * *

The Konoha deep woods in summer were a sprawling green maze. A thick brush of green and brown painted all directions, making navigation a nightmare. The muffled snap of branches breaking and the soft clinking of armor melted into the forest’s echoing birdsong and cicada calls as the ANBU moved with due diligence. The sun had fallen a few hours back, and when the last dying ray of its light soaked into the backs of gray uniforms, the tree groves drank sweat falling off of tired, hot skin. But there could be no rest. They had to get to the location before the moon rose high in the center of the sky, before the enemies could use the stars as their maps.

Gai was used to traversing long distances. His breath was hardly winded, and he made it a challenge to try to jump farther every time he landed on a branch. Uzura stayed a modest distance behind him; Himizu, as maybe a sign of their Youthful Fervor, tried to keep up with Gai but was panting. They were the three support units, and although Himizu had declared themself the scout, Kakashi — Captain Inu — had said those skills wouldn’t be necessary when they had headed out.

Kakashi had said they had Itachi.

Ever since that comment was made, Himizu had been doubling, no, tripling his efforts to get Kakashi to notice him. It was like watching a puppy chase after a bouncing ball and always missing its chance to grab it. Gai didn’t mean to, but he ended up rooting for his squadmate. He could understand what Himizu sought. It wasn’t the cheap thrill of attention, but the lasting satisfaction of acknowledgment.

But Kakashi and his core team were far ahead, taking the first point, and didn’t show signs of slowing down. Gai rolled his eyes, knowing he could easily catch up, but — he glanced back at Himizu, whose jumping form was dismal. Their arms flailed out and their knees bent with too much force. Gai could read fatigue and frustration in the way those muscles moved. Any second and — Gai rushed back to wind his arm across Himizu’s chest, pulling them up, and landed on a sturdy branch.

Himizu shakily stood, gasping for air. They would have fallen seven storeys if it wasn't for the intervention. Although Gai couldn’t point it out as per his silent character, he also _didn’t_ want to point it out. What good would it do to discourage his squadmate?

“T-thank you, Nezumi,” Himizu choked. Gai carefully let the trembling scout go, and Uzura caught up with them.

“Himizu! You alright? Nice save, Nezumi,” Uzura called out, hands glowing as they went to attend to Himizu, who tried to shrug the help off. Himizu was about to jump again but was blocked when Gai purposely stepped in front, pulled out a bottle of water, and handed it to them.

“Guys, I’m fine — the core team—” Himizu whined, but Uzura shook their head.

“Captain _Inu_ didn't even notice we fell behind," Uzura said Kakashi’s codename as if they were in the middle of ripping off a specifically nasty bandage. "Take Nezumi’s water and let me look at your muscle fatigue. It won’t take long.”

Grumbling, Himizu snatched up Gai’s water and lifted their mask a tad to reveal their mouth. They drank quietly and with a glum 'thanks' they returned the bottle.

For their part, Uzura was quickly but seemingly efficiently patting down Himizu’s arms and legs. Gai supposed they had found where the main injuries were when Uzura’s hands began to glow again. The quail knelt and emitted a powdery green chakra from their palms. They put their hands on Himizu’s legs, which absorbed the light.

“This will temporarily abate the fatigue, but you need to be off your feet for at least five minutes or you'll exasperate it. The chakra can’t speed up the healing if you’re actively using the damaged muscle.” Uzura explained and withdrew their hands.

“But I can’t just wait here! Then I'll never catch up!” Himizu whined. They tried to take a step and almost fell if it hadn’t been for Gai’s arm wrangling in the shrew mole like a net. The kid was struggling and Gai was reminded of someone else who also hated accepting help. Seeing the kid about to argue with Uzura, Gai sighed inwardly. This won’t do. He needed to step up.

Gai bent down and offered his back to his teammate, arms back and waiting. He turned back to look to Himizu and then offered a thumbs up. _Piggyback_ , _anyone?_

Uzura giggled and Himizu made a frustrated groan in the back of their throat as they clawed at their mask with exaggerated displeasure. They were fourteen years old, that was for sure.

“Nezumi is faster than us, and I can tell they’ve been holding back. It’s in the way they move. Come on Himizu, we might be able to catch up with Captain Inu and the core team if you just let Nezumi help you for five minutes.” Uzura sighed, and their palms burst in a yellow light which they pressed into their ankles. “And I can keep up like this.”

There was a pause and then Gai was almost jostled off the branch as Himizu leapt onto his back.

“Fine!” Cried the shrew mole. “But, uh, Captain Inu better not see me! If he does, I’m gonna say you two put me up to it!”

Gai chuckled and nodded, and the two ANBU with him looked at him with masks tilted to a side.

“So you can make some kind of noise,” Uzura teased.

Shrugging his shoulders and securing Himizu against his back, Gai gave a single nod before he shot off the branch, his powerful thighs releasing like a coil. Himizu let out a surprised shout into the back of Gai's hood, and those small gloved hands clutched tighter around Gai’s shoulders.

“Holy—so what, you really were holding back before?” Himizu muttered as Gai sprang again. They soared over a rushing brook below. Gai nodded _yes_. He didn’t think it would make Himizu feel any better if he lied, anyway.

“...Everyone’s so good at what they do,” the kid muttered, “and what I’m good at doesn’t even matter. Captain Inu said as much.”

Gai bit at his lip and endured the painful response of bruised skin. It was so hard to keep quiet. All he wanted to do right at the moment was to hand Himizu an energizing punch, like Papa would have, and tell them they'd have a chance to prove their worth to Kakashi as long as they never lose sight of their Youthful Determination! Limits were nothing but a word! Himizu could get Max Youth Power if they believed in their skills. If they had someone else believing in them as well.

Thus, Gai shook his head _no_ , and Himizu’s hands on his shoulders twitched.

“Don't joke. I know who Captain Inu is, Nezumi. He’s Copy Ninja Kakashi, of the Sharingan. It’s so obvious with his hair. Plus he doesn’t wear his mask around in Konoha, either!” Himizu replied.

Gai sucked in a breath. See, he was right on Kakashi not following ANBU rules and donning the uniform in public! Replying to Himizu, Gai shook his head again just as they wound around a tree trunk.

“When someone that cool and that prestigious says something like that, it’s got to mean something. I’m a nobody. And after today, everyone will forget me, Nezumi.” Himizu said, dejectedly. With acceptance.

 _No!_ Gai stopped in his tracks and ignored the starburst of pain when Himizu’s mask crashed into the back of his head. Himizu hissed and rubbed at the sides of their mask.

“Hey—” they whinged but Gai lowered his squadmate down and pointed over to the clearing in the distance below. There was the core group of Team Ro and their squad captain, Kakashi, hidden and waiting in the tall grass.

“Oh, right,” Himizu said. Their little body shook as they sighed and stretched their legs after getting off. Himizu looked so frail and tiny compared to Gai. _Like a wood sparrow,_ Gai recalled someone else's voice in his head.

Consequently, Gai couldn’t help himself. He reached over, bending down so he was eye level with his squadmate. He squeezed Himizu’s shoulder, and when he had the shrew mole’s attention, he pointed right at Himizu’s heart, tapped at the temple of his mouse mask, and then pointed at his own flexed bicep.

“...Are you saying you think I’m strong?” Himizu offered quietly after a stunned pause.

Gai nodded, returning to full height, and gave Himizu a pat on the back. He pointed down at Kakashi in the clearing. Following that action, he directed a finger at Himizu, tapped at the eye slots of his mouse mask, and then flexed both arms. That got Himizu to chuckle softly.

“Alright. I get it. ‘Show Hatake Kakashi what I can do,’ huh?” Himizu’s tone was brighter. Gai nodded and let out a chuckle when Himizu smacked him lightly back on the arm. Gai couldn't help but think Himizu was kind of like the little brother he never had.

“Fine, but don’t complain if I get into the core team and leave you behind, Nezumi!”

 _As if you’ll leave me behind!_ Gai wanted to retort, but just put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest in pride, like Papa once did for him. Uzura caught up with them at their tree and the trio descended into the grassy clearing.

“Took you long enough,” Kakashi hissed.

“Sorry Captain,” Uzura spoke for the support team, and Himizu ducked their head in shame. Gai bowed a little as an apology, but only to be in character. He wasn’t _that_ sorry, Rival. From how the moon was in the sky, they had got to the location with plenty of time to set up the ambush.

Kakashi blew off the apologies and crooked a finger noncommittally toward the trees.

“Itachi, your report.” He called out, not bothering to look over to his squadmate.

“Yes, captain.” Itachi slithered out from the shadow of a grand oak tree, joining the circle of ANBU. With a few flicks of his hand seals and a whisper of a spell later, Itachi's chakra signature flared momentarily as he activated a jutsu.

“Look here.” Itachi guided his group members to see into the circle.

In the empty grassy patch in the center, the flora melted away. Ah, it was the workings of a genjutsu. Gai watched Itachi’s illusion come to life, the formless colors swirling in the dirt until a scene came into shape. A group of miniature men, armored to the teeth, were walking through a forest, in columns of three. The centerline piqued Gai’s attention. It took three men on each side to hold some kind of an extended metal rod.

“I spotted them up ahead, they are on their way here as we speak. There’s twenty altogether for this tiny militia. I read everyone’s chakra, and I suspect the men in the center are not ninja. I don’t know what exactly they’re carrying though, but I have guesses. It appears to be heavy. That’s why they’re moving so slowly,” Itachi explained, and as he spoke, the illusionary men marched in their imaginary forest.

“Itachi, can you isolate the object?” Kakashi requested.

The genjutsu rose like vapor and swirled, smearing the faceless men into the air and rematerializing with an image of a metal invention Gai had never seen before. It was a greenish-black cylindrical tube with a flared muzzle. The patina suggested it was cast from bronze. Two rings were reinforcing a barrel and a grooved chamber at the butt of the pipe.

“What is it?” Mangusu asked, circling the image to look at it from all angles. The mongoose tilted their head to and fro. Their hair swayed with their back-and-forth movements.

Gai came to the conclusion right when Kakashi did.

“A weapon.”

There was a heavy silence as Itachi’s illusioned cannon fired a row of silent fire. Mangusu flinched and took a half-step back. Gai crossed his arms and blocked out thoughts of Konoha becoming the recipient of those flames.

Kakashi wasted no time informing them, “Namely, it’s a breech-loaded cannon. The cannoneer loads gunpowder and projectile shot into the top of the chamber. Then, they block it with a wedge, light it up, and…" Itachi made the illusion cannon fire once more. Gai thought the timing would have been comical if it weren't for the dread in the pit of his stomach.

"Don’t let its size fool you, they’re quick-firing. They’re called _ishibiya_ , and at times, the deadliest ones have the nickname of _kunikuzushi_.”

“ _Destroyer of Provinces_?” Fukuro whispered and shifted to their other foot. The tense air thickened when Kakashi didn’t answer.

Instead, Team Ro’s squad captain walked through Itachi’s genjutsu, through the flames, and dispelled the jutsu himself with a glittering swipe of his short sword.

“That's enough,” Kakashi said, “save the ogling for after we cut it down.”

Gai tried not to think that statement was cool, but lost his resolve in a matter of seconds and ended up admiring his Eternal Rival’s Hip response. Kakashi and his effortless theatrics! No wonder he was Gai’s rival and friend.

“Gather,” Kakashi ordered the team and the circle drew tight around him. The white dog mask shone in the moonlight, its red streaks starker in the bluish tint.

"Core team, we are setting up Operation Bindweed: cover and choke out the enemy from all sides, preventing escape.” The core team nodded and dispersed to their points. It seemed this was something they’d done before.

Turning to Gai and the support team to his left, Kakashi began to explain, “I’ll commence by pinning the shinobi leading the group, taking the frontal assault. Neko and Mangusu will strike to the right of the targets. Flanking the left, Itachi. Fukuro will ambush them from the back.”

“Sir, what should we do?” Himizu asked, voicing Gai’s thoughts.

“Did you forget what I said back at HQ? You’re support. Make sure the core team is safe. Don’t get caught out of position.” Kakashi was blunt and brutal. Gai’s tongue tingled, like he tasted something sour just by listening to Kakashi’s acidic remark.

“But! But, we can help—”

“What, you think _you’re_ going in when we have the core? Don’t bother. I don’t need dead weight out in the field.” Kakashi growled, stomping his foot for emphasis. “You and Nezumi support us with ninjutsu in the trees. Uzura, heal wounds, and replenish energy.”

That shut Himizu up. The kid released their bundled fists and kept his head down. Gai carefully put a hand on Himizu’s shoulder to placate.

It wasn’t the right move since the dog snapped to look at him.

“Oi, _Hamster._ You can do ninjutsu, right? Unless you’re all brawn, no brain?” Kakashi mocked him.

Gai grinned a sardonic smile hidden beneath his mouse mask. Man, his rival was really good at getting under his skin _occasionally_. He gave Kakashi a salute and pulled his hand away from the crown of his head sharply. Yes, Kakashi, Gai could do ninjutsu. It wasn’t like he was a jounin or anything, with two Elemental Releases under his belt.

With that confirmed, everyone flickered into the trees.

To say he wasn’t nervous was a lie. Gai pressed his back close to the tree trunk, using the canopy of the oak’s full-leafed branches as cover. As Itachi mentioned, the enemy regiment was heading toward them, their torch lights akin to menacing will o’ wisps searching for souls in the forest depths. He swallowed, but it only made his throat feel scratchier as a result. Come now, he chastised himself. What was he worried about? It was fine, their plan was foolproof and the core team experienced. And most importantly, Gai trusted Kakashi.

Kakashi, in another tree, flashed his vambrace into the moonlight and gave the hand signal.

_Go._

Gai’s breath caught when Kakashi leapt into the air like a great bat and dropped down like a cannonball, sword no different from a scorpion’s stinger as it punctured into a man’s skull. Gai fought the urge to look away right when the first scream hit his ears and the shocked birds exploded into the skies, fleeing what they knew would become a bloodbath. Kakashi’s sword, not satisfied with the taster, swung in a deadly arc and lobbed off one of the arms holding up the war machine. The cannon fell with a massive thump against the forest grass, and its mockery of pallbearers jumped back to avoid the biting blade.

“Get him!”

Another gleam of silver interrupted a battle cry. Mangusu and Neko. Gai kept his eyes on them, had to for the mission, and forced himself to breathe whilst his squadmates stomped down on collapsed ribs and impaled pulsing chests. More bodies slumped to the ground, the men’s shouts made it clear they were unable to process what was happening, unaware of the small weasel flitting through them, cutting through what Gai could tell were Achilles’ tendons. If anyone survived, they would never walk again. But he knew the core squad would make sure _If_ wouldn't even be a factor.

The clanging debate of swords started. Point, counter, parry, thrust, blood, metal, iron, sick. Sick, the way Itachi dug his sword into the back of a man crawling away, and didn’t give a second glance before working on the next one. Neko’s jutsu summoned tree roots which tangled around necks and yanked them back until the joints popped and separated. The regiment’s guttural death rattles could be heard over Mangusu’s swooshing sword as they dispatched a man begging for mercy. And at the forefront of the battle, Kakashi and an enemy shinobi were testing each other’s skills, clashing their weapons in a bid to kill the other as brutally as possible. Gai endeavored to focus on his objective, out of the core team, Gai spotted one, two, three, four… But wait, where was —

“Fukuro-san’s in danger!” Himizu called out, and Gai followed the child’s index finger, an invisible arrow, to the owl in the distance, surrounded by four men and the dark woods. The militia’s ninja guards must have decided to pick off the ANBU members through mob force — shit. Gai readied his hand seals, electricity pooling in his fingertips, but Fukuro was pulled into the forest, away from his sight. Shit, where did they go?

“We gotta go help Fukuro!” Himizu was ready to jump from their perch when Uzura flickered behind them, grabbing their shoulder.

“No! Captain Inu said we have to stay here! We have to monitor the core team—”

“Fukuro-san’s in the core team! Captain said we don’t abandon teammates!”

Why were they yelling? They were going to give away their posit — Gai’s back prickled when the intensity of killing intent bulldozed his senses. He lunged, clotheslining both Himizu and Uzura, and sending them down with him as the tree they were on exploded in an eruption of fire and thunder.

The three of them roughly landed in the tall grass, but Gai didn’t feel anything. He couldn’t notice anything outside of the ringing going off in his ears. He rolled up and winced. It appeared he had taken the brunt of the fall on his back, and even with chakra to shield the damage his spine was throbbing.

His head was jackhammering and his mask had slipped a little, only showing Gai unfocused slivers of the giant trees, the crescent moon, the damp grass, his mud-splattered gloves, an ANBU uniform running off. Righting his mask, Gai got to his wobbly feet. His ears were still ringing, from the explosion, the impact… but sound was refilling the stinging void and he could make out the perturbing noise of someone crying.

A meter away and crumpled in the dirt, Uzura was brokenly sobbing, clutching at their mangled hand. Shit, their fingers. The digits weren’t right. Before Gai could help them up, his nerves flared up. His breath refused to leave the safety of his lungs, even though the organs were burning for the release of air. That oppressive aura was nearby. No. It was here. Quickly snapping his head to its direction, Gai’s eyes widened as he spotted the man walking toward them.

“So we got some _animals_ hiding out in the trees, huh?” The man’s bloody face matched the red spotting his light-gray shirt. Was that the shinobi’s? Or Fukuro’s blood?

“Some dogs, some cats, and _this_ fucking thing…”

In the shinobi’s hand was a black katana, dripping with liquid Gai didn’t want to identify.

“I’m gonna be honest, ANBU scum, I’m not too happy right now. But..." He pointed the blade towards Gai and offered, "If you run now and let me kill that one crying out for me to end their suffering, I’ll give you a ten seconds head start before I go after you, yeah?” The man kept on walking, sniggering with madness.

Flashing a look back, Gai noticed Uzura had managed themselves to sit up on their knees, but they were hiccuping and shivering. Unresponsive.

Shit, they had to be going through a mental breakdown from the agonizing affliction. It happened to even the most battle-hardened ninja. Outside they were blank, numb to the world around them. But inside, their mind probably raced with images of how they were going to die. If Gai told them to flee, Uzura wouldn’t be able to run in time.

There was no other way out.

Shifting his eyes back to the target, Gai reached behind and drew his metal staff. Gripping the pole with both hands, shoulder-width apart, Gai ignored the pain flaring in his back as he bent into a stance, the staff diagonal and poised.

“You a strong, silent type? Trying to play fucking _hero_ , Konoha trash? After what your nation did?!”

This enemy was like an enraged bear charging in without a second thought. Only instinct and the impulse to kill the unfortunate fool who walked into their line of sight drove their unhinged movements. Unluckily for this man, Gai had no desire to die. He swung the staff around his wrists, let the metal spin, and now! He thrust the rod horizontal into the shinobi’s chest, knocking him back. Space, that was what Gai needed. Keep the man back and keep Uzura safe.

The man staggered back before he sprinted at Gai with another savage roar. The hit must have brought some clearheadedness into the shinobi; with a sense of acuity, he slammed his sword against the staff’s downward cleave. Gai’s eyes picked up the sudden turn of the shinobi’s wrists to the left, twisting the blade. To avoid his hands being chopped off, Gai quickly spun his body, the staff crossing up to block a sideways slash. But the man had been expecting a parry, and grabbed at the metal pole, twisting Gai around to close the distance.

He wouldn’t throw Gai off his feet that easily. Holding onto his weapon, Gai moved with the pulling motion, heading toward the man’s wild smile and sharp blade. Before the katana dug into his side, Gai swung his legs up with the momentum, kicking the shinobi across the face. Teeth flew out. In mid-air, Gai flung the staff around his shoulders, cold metal revolving around the hot heartbeat pulsing in his neck, and landed with a roll, springing back up with two hands on the staff’s base.

It was Gai's turn now. He charged with control, closing the distance with a slash aiming at the other's midsection. The shinobi countered. Steel butted head against steel, sparks lighting up as they collided over and over again. Strike at the head. Blocked. Jump and swipe at his legs. Blocked. Thrust. Blocked. The shinobi wouldn’t let up, but Gai wouldn't either.

With a fierce yell, the enemy lunged, throwing his entire right side into a stab, and there it was. Gai’s chance. He pressed forward as well, meeting the blade with his staff. Quicker than the man could react, Gai whirled his wrists, curling the katana around his weapon, spiraling it out of the shinobi’s hands and flinging it away. The sword clattered as it landed somewhere, but Gai couldn’t celebrate. He snapped his head back to dodge a flying shuriken, and backflipped to miss the uncontrolled swing of a kunai.

“Stop dodging and die already!” The man yowled, sending out another batch of shuriken. Gai jumped, an easy dodge, when he realized the shinobi wasn’t aiming at him.

The shurikens were intended for Uzura.

They were a sitting duck and the shurikens were too fast. Without regard for his safety, Gai blinked out, hoping, no, begging god, the deities, _anyone_ watching over him _,_ to let him get there in time—

Uzura screamed. There was a grunt of pain, hidden under a barbaric cackle that shot up into the spilled Sumi-e skies. Gai stood in between his squadmate and the other shinobi, his right arm throbbing and bleeding from the four star-like blades embedded into his skin.

“Nezumi!?” Uzura yelped. A weak smile flitted around Gai’s mouth, a small mimic of the big grin on the mouse mask. Good, his squadmate was out in the real world again.

“Don’t worry, you two will have all the time to catch up after I break your skulls open,” the shinobi promised.

Gai tested the muscle in his incapacitated arm. No response. A paralyzing poison on the shuriken? His fingers wouldn't even twitch. Ninjutsu was out of the question then. It didn't matter. If he didn't have his arms, then — chakra ran through the familiar routes of his body, zooming into the locks and twisting them open.

Gate of Opening, cleared. Healing, cleared. Everything lit up inside him, boisterous power rollicking and setting his nerves to the peak. The heat of Gai's burning chakra shoved off the grim, cold grasp of Death. Not today. His muscles bulged, straining against the inflexible ANBU armor, and Gai was about to open the next Gate when he saw the shinobi's hands whirling, making seals for Tiger, Ox, Rabbit —

Gai threw his staff like a javelin.

The shinobi moved his head to the right, avoiding the metal bar. He barked out a single laugh, shouting that Gai had missed, right as Gai flickered behind the man, grabbed the metal staff in mid-air, and swung it backward, slamming it against the vulnerable back of the shinobi’s skull with one resounding, final crack.

The man fell forward into the thrush. A pool of blood flowed around his head, a parody of a halo. Weeds lapped up the blood as it seeped into the dirt.

Gai landed, soft as a wisp, and wiped the slick liquid off the staff on the grass. Joylessly, he returned the weapon to its holster and closed the access to the gates. His body would be weaker now, but he didn’t want to overexert himself. Without delay, he rushed back to check on Uzura, who had crawled into the shadow of a tree. A faint green light told Gai all he needed to know about their situation.

“Nezumi,” they called out when Gai crouched next to them.

 _Are you okay_? He so wanted to ask but kept his lips firmly shut. Just as fervently, Gai tapped at his hand to ask his squadmate to show theirs. He softly hissed when he saw it. Uzura’s damaged hand looked better, but it was not normal by any standard.

“It’s fine, give it fifteen minutes and my jutsu will finish making splints inside my hand. I won’t be able to use it for now, but I still have my left. Besides, an injured hand is nothing. I would have died if it wasn’t for you,” Uzura whispered the last bit.

They sounded, no, _were_ upset. Gai shook his head and brushed dead grass off of Uzura’s hair, helping to clean up. From beneath the quail mask, there was a lone, quivering hitch of breath. A green hand shone over Gai’s right arm. Oh, right, those wounds. The shurikens had fallen off when Gai exerted a pulse of chakra when opening the gates, but because the nerves in his arm had been numbed, he forgot all about the blood flowing freely down his skin.

“Um, let me heal your arm, it’s the least I can do for my…” Uzura mumbled faintly and Gai couldn’t make out the almost inaudible word they whispered at the end. In his ears, it sounded like it ended with ‘ro’.

The soothing green light flashed over his shallow cuts, and Gai kept in a giggle reacting to the tickling sensation of his wounds mending and nerves returning. In minutes the paralysis melted away and Gai tested his arm and hand, swinging and flexing the muscles. Once that was done, Uzura relocated their hand over Gai’s front, close to touching the breastplate of his armor.

“Ah, is… Is that it? I would have sworn you would have more injuries… I guess I was mistaken.” Uzura kept their hand hovering on Gai’s chest for another beat before quickly withdrawing their fingers.

Gai gave them a thumbs up and smiled behind his mask. Then he sobered up, looking around for the other member of their party. He made a show of looking around, hand curled over the brow of his mask like a visor cap, afterward touching his nose and then pinching it out, copying the long nose of the shrew mole.

“Huh? Did I 'see Himizu?' I... I didn’t notice—”

Uzura suddenly cut themselves off when a branch snapped nearby. Gai reached for a kunai and turned to the noise as Uzura struggled to stand up. He braced himself for another brutal fight as he rose to his full height.

A small, masked figure watched them from the underbrush, partially obscured by shadows. Gai felt the soothing balm of relief when he saw the familiar porcelain. He raised his hand in greeting when his squadmate walked towards them and into the revealing light of the moon.

“So this is where the two of you were,” Itachi said, tossing a broken branch aside. His weasel mask turned to look at the man Gai had defeated and then back to stare blankly up at Gai.

“You eliminated the hostile. Good, they're all dead then. Now, please follow me. Captain Inu is waiting; the squad is regrouping for a status update.”

Gai swallowed thickly at how unembellished those deadpan words were. He shared a look with Uzura and made the pinching motion over his nose again. Uzura motioned towards Itachi who was already walking away and began to carefully push forward. Gai turned to give the dead man one last look, sent his respects, and followed his squadmates into the shadows.

¤

They moved as a unit under the cover of darkness, barely making noise as they marched onward. The forest that was filled with the pandemonium of battle mere moments ago had returned to the familiar droning of insects. The moon was high now in the cloudless night sky. It had to be short of midnight.

Beyond the scramble of thickets, bushes, and weeds, there were lights. At first, Gai had mistaken these little beams of orange for fireflies but upon closer observation, he saw they were round paper lanterns propped up on thin, bendy stilts in the hands of the ninja. There was some sort of inscription on the paper but it was too small for him to make out clearly in the dark.

Gai glanced at Itachi, but the shinobi seemed unconcerned about the appearance of these strangers. These people were allies, then. The flickering light from their lanterns bounced of white porcelain masks and the peculiar, shiny black capes they wore over their uniforms. Pulled up to their elbows were non-standard gloves, large and loose, made of that dark but reflective material. As Gai moved forward he saw they were digging into — his breath seized. Gai couldn't believe what he was seeing.

It was a dismembered leg. Gai’s mind struggled to understand what these strange ANBU were doing when the handaxe in one of their hands came down again. _Thwack!_ Something splattered up, hit the capes, and slid down in a trail of indistinguishable slime. Sickness rose in Gai's throat, visceral and thick.

Did he get caught in an enemy genjutsu? This couldn't be actually happening.

“Nasty! You got guts on me,” one of them hissed. Their walrus mask shook as they wiped at their body.

“Relax. It comes right off anyway.” Their partner quipped beneath their splattered elephant mask and chopped again. _Smack._

These ANBU were hacking up the dead. In the corner of Gai’s vision, to his left, the small orange light dipped towards the ground. A beat later, there was a flare and a disgustingly smoky stench.

Gai brought his hands up near his face and carefully formed the Tiger Seal and — nothing changed. His entire world shifted on its axis. This wasn’t genjutsu?

“Man, that stinks,” someone said.

“It's not that bad. It almost smells like food.”

Multiple voices laughed. Gai's head was spinning, trying to make sense of this situation. Was no one else seeing this? Hearing this?

Gai searched frantically for Itachi, to get some sort of explanation, but the boy was walking ahead as if he was in the streets of Konoha, completely unbothered by the carnage unfolding before him.

A different lantern lowered and another something, which used to be someone, caught on fire. Gai's keen ears picked up the whispers in the forest. More ANBU were coming out of the woodwork like termite larvae, infesting everything.

“Isn’t human flesh rumored to taste like pork?”

"Why’re you asking? Don't tell me you want to try it."

More laughter erupted. Gai's blood was boiling, it felt like his skin would melt off.

 _Whack_.

"Help me cut this bastard's legs off. Fucker's bowels were full."

_Crunch._

"Team Ro just _had_ to blow this guy's brains out. Figures, they're not the ones who have to clean it up this time. Mess fucking everywhere."

 _Snap_.

"Stop complaining. Just make sure you get it all. If there's even a small trace they can reanimate them and tie this back to Konoha."

Gai wasn't naive. He knew bodies held secrets, but was this really how Konoha handled this? Even though they were enemies, did they not deserve even the smallest shred of respect in death?

Gai braved a look when another fire burst into existence close by. He wished he didn’t. An ANBU member wearing the guise of a rhinoceros beetle was cleaving bits off of a torso. They were gripping the corpse’s limp wrist as if it were a string connected to a spinning toy. The mass of flesh connected to the clothed shoulder lazily rotated around and around.

"Stop being so self-righteous." Rhinoceros beetle demanded, and Gai flinched, knowing that they meant him. “Full bodies take too long to dispose of completely, so what if we're having a little fun? Your team already took the good part and slaughtered them all. We're just making this shit entertaining for ourselves."

They shook the remains violently, and wet chunks of skin, sinew, and bone dropped to the ground. How could someone do such a thing? That used to be a person. This was... Gai felt his vision swim like he was underwater. Someone tugged him away, and he was thankful for it. He lost all feeling in his legs.

✶

Ahead of Gai, Itachi called out a name. Captain. Inu. It was Kakashi. Gai remembered how to breathe again, and shot his sightline up from the grass to the figure not too far away, standing in the dirt path. Kakashi barked out some orders to the weirdly-dressed ANBU, but Gai was too distracted, mind too occupied by the arrhythmic chopping noise in the distance. It sounded like “stop playing around”, but Gai didn’t know if that was Kakashi or his conscience putting words to Kakashi’s lips. As the party drew near enough to be in earshot of their captain, Gai minded to stand again when Uzura let him go.

He fought the shudder in his lungs when he smelled more smoke. Kakashi’s mask was turned to him, and Gai wanted to pull his friend to the side and divulge about the horrors he had seen. _Did you know about this?_ He would ask Kakashi. _Do you know how dishonorable these people are? No one should desecrate someone’s dead body like this._ But no word could come out. No words could describe the numbing, dreading feeling spreading through Gai’s body when the dog flicked his head away, up to the fume-filled night sky, as if he was avoiding this imaginary conversation between him and Gai. But such a thing wasn't possible, was it?

“Captain Inu, I have Nezumi and Uzura with me. Uzura sustained injuries.” Itachi reported.

"What about the strange burst of chakra we sensed?” Kakashi was onto the next point. Strange chakra? Gai felt his ears burning. He wasn’t as sharp as Kakashi, but what if… What if they were talking about him and the gates?

“When I got there, the signature was gone. Maybe it was one of the hostiles.” Itachi’s mask turned to look at Gai. Gai looked down at his feet. No, no. Calm down. Itachi couldn’t have sensed it, Sachi-san said the special armor was foolproof. Right?

“Any unconscious targets?” Kakashi’s question pulled Itachi’s attention away.

“They won’t be waking up. I made sure of that.”

“Good,” Kakashi praised as if he was talking about the weather.

Gai had known Itachi to be a killer, and had witnessed it himself, but it still didn’t make the information an easier pill to swallow. As Kakashi turned to address him and Uzura finally, another figure dashed in from the woods. The cat mask, with its wide, imploring eyes looked as frazzled as the tone emitted from it.

“Captain! It’s Mangusu! She’s hurt!” Neko alerted the group, and Gai’s stomach started to knot up. Uzura, next to him, shivered. Itachi and Kakashi were aloof, and then Kakashi broke from his stony impasse and flicked his head toward the quail.

“Uzura, time to step up. You're not too injured to work, right?” Kakashi’s clipped question rose above the weighty gloom in the air.

“I can manage, captain, but what about—”

Another rustle and the group all snapped their heads to look at the ANBU member coming out of the thicket. Their armor was blood-splattered, and their hands were dripping. However, the owl mask was pristine.

“Fukuro?” Kakashi called out, flat like a dull stone dropping into a lake.

“No injuries to report, Captain Inu.” Fukuro was collected and shook the ichor off from their hands. Uzura advanced toward Fukuro before Gai could stop them.

“Fukuro, where’s Himizu?” Uzura asked, grabbing onto the squadmate’s arm.

“What are you talking about? Get your hands off, you'll get dirty,” Fukuro snapped, volume up a half-decibel from their whisper. They attempted to extricate their arm from Uzura’s desperate grip, but the quail was relentless.

“Himizu, they went after you—they saw you were surrounded!” Uzura was starting to shake Fukuro. The fact that no one tried stopping them made everything worse. Gai looked over to Kakashi, but the dog merely observed the quail pacing madly around the owl. Fukuro tried to calm Uzura but their hand was knocked aside.

Gai wanted to call Uzura back, but already he knew the quail knew — they both had that inescapable feeling about what had happened to their squadmate dragging them down under. But their little ship bobbed on those treacherous, anxious waves, holding out for a sliver of hospitality, a lighthouse shining hope. Gai didn’t want the light to go out. Someone _had_ to have seen Himizu.

“Uzura, what? I didn’t—”

“Then, then, where? Where’s Himi—”

“Oi! Captain _Inu_!” A bassy, rowdy voice. Someone new.

Team Ro stopped in their tracks. The only indication of acknowledgment came from their leader, who shoved his hands into his pockets. Approaching them from the dirt path were the weirdly dressed ANBU, marching like a sinister parade. The light from their paper lanterns illuminated the bloody slop on their bodies, and Gai forced himself to look up at their tusked and horned masks.

The one way out in front had to be the leader. Their boar mask was strange. One of the tusks, on the ninja’s left side, was broken. It made them look uneven… incomplete, somehow. Boar mask was waving their arm as if they were a neighbor on an evening stroll. Behind them was their quiet legion of shiny-caped bodies, and soon the air smelled thickly of salt, earth, fire, and blood.

By now, Gai had a feeling he could identify this specific squad.

“Cleanup,” Kakashi said.

Boar mask immediately growled and raised a fist at Kakashi. They were a tower, a figure taller than Gai, and their soiled cape extended down to their ankles, making them look like a living shadow, some sort of awful, pig-headed demon.

“We’re the Sweepers.” Boar mask corrected and then addressed the group, as if now they came into existence. “Special ANBU Unit: Corpse Processing Squad, for you cute little kids.”

They indicated to Itachi, who simply did not respond. Uzura and Fukuro dropped their arms and looked over to Kakashi for directions. Neko didn’t stir, and Gai stared confusedly at the scene before him.

“God, your kids are miserable as fuck,” Boar mask griped at Kakashi, who finally brushed off his casual demeanor and crossed his arms. He stepped up to the boar and looked up. Despite the height difference, there was a palpable flinch coming from the Captain of the Corpse Processing Squad.

“What do you want, _Inoshishi,_ ” Kakashi said.

“I told ya, my name’s _Yamakujira!_ The whale of the mountains.” The boar fired back.

“What’s the difference, you’re still a boar.”

“There’s a difference between a prime hunting _ryoken_ and a mangy mutt _inu_.” Yamakujira leaned in. The tip of their good tusk almost grazed Kakashi’s mask.

“So I heard. What do you want? I've got an injured teammate to take care of.” Kakashi held his ground.

“Oh? Now, Captain _Inu_ , I think you have a much bigger problem.” Yamakujira raised their gloved hand, and from the group emerged an elephant mask, holding up a small, folded body.

“Himizu!” Uzura exclaimed and ran over to check. Fukuro, alarmed, went with their squadmate. Neko and Itachi stayed back, but for probably different reasons altogether from Gai, who couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Cold realization froze his bones once he saw the condition of Himizu’s body.

Uzura shrieked first.

Kakashi hissed, “You're giving away our position!”

Fukuro slammed their hand over the quail’s beak, and dragged the flailing squadmate back into the ring of Team Ro. Whilst Uzura was crying out, Yamakujira laughed deep rumbles from their tall, monstrous body.

“So! This boy _is_ yours, Captain _Inu._ What does it, ah, make it? Eight now just this year alone? Two more and your next funeral pyre is on the house, you _overachiever_ , you.” Yamakujira was about to clap a long-fingered hand over Kakashi’s shoulder when Kakashi all but blinked away to Uzura. He pried their arm and started to pull them into the woods.

“Himizu—” Uzura started but Kakashi pivoted, grabbing the quail by the side strap of their mask.

Gai wanted to stop him, but his mind and body were too slow. He was a river succumbing to the winter chill. A man encased in ice. The bleak and bitter truth pressed down onto his shoulders like a suffocating snowdrift, made him want to curl in from the merciless weight of the situation. Unquestionably, there was nothing else that could be done.

Himizu was dead.

“Stop. He's already gone. Don’t waste energy on him when there's someone else you can help. Get a grip and focus on the life you can actually save.” The dog snapped at the quail.

Uzura stopped struggling and wordlessly let themselves be dragged into the black forest. The core team, faithful to their captain or perhaps fearful of disobedience, followed suit into the woods.

Gai didn’t. If Uzura was going with Kakashi and the rest of the group, Mangusu would be fine. He wouldn't go. He wouldn't follow a leader who wouldn't even see the face of his fallen teammates. Gai didn’t know how, but his body moved toward the caped ANBU members, Cleanup, Sweepers, whoever they were, Gai brushed past them to see the broken little boy they had placed in the dirt.

¤

Someone had taken Himizu’s mask off, and Gai’s breath caught at how _young_ Himizu looked. He had dark brown hair pulled loosely in a tiny, low ponytail Gai hadn’t noticed until now, and several bandaids on his face. There was even a bit of teenage acne, a sign of his youth, and a thin neck which — Gai winced and re-opened his eyes. He wouldn't look away like Kakashi had.

Himizu’s neck was horrifically bent. Something bulged from under the skin. On closer inspection, Gai determined it was the tracheal cartilage. The skin fiendishly stretched out over knobbly bumps.

Then Gai saw the boy’s legs. He lost the fight against a shudder reverberating through his spine. Himizu's leg bones were misaligned. Bashed past breakpoint by something blunt. The leg wrappings were soaked in red.

Gai's stomach was turning, over and over. It would not stop, even as Gai clutched his abdomen tight with his hand. This hand, his hand, had held up that boy mere hours ago. His hands had supported Himizu on his back. Gai's hand had pointed into the distance, had set Himizu a goal: _go show him what you can do_. But Himizu had been only a child. He wasn't ready and Gai had pushed him off the ledge, this baby sparrow who hadn't yet learned to use his wings. Gai didn’t protect him, didn't even get to him _fast enough when it actually counted_. No, he had let Himizu fall.

"This one’s young… Shame, but it's not like we can take him with us. This mission is classified and I don’t wanna lug something back…" one of the cleanup members trailed off into the tall grass.

Gai closed his eyes. No.

"Yeah, we can't just leave him here either. Captain Yamakujira?"

He clenched his fists. Please, no.

"You know the drill. Chop 'im up."

He braced himself for the first crack of metal on flesh, on bone but he still wasn't ready when the first one came. Or the second. The chopping noise was like clockwork, rhythmic, and practiced, counting every second Himizu’s body would cease to be Himizu.

✶

Even with his eyes closed and partly hidden behind the mask, the light of a flare still filtered through Gai’s eyelids. The light illuminated that which Gai did not wish to see. The nauseating, pungent smell of charring flesh shoved into his nostrils, and he retched. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand. He would not suck up the ashes of the dead, another person lost to fire… The fire. God.

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t hold on.

Maito Gai broke a shinobi rule.

He wept, silently, under his mask. His tears rolled down his cheeks, hidden under the ever-smiling porcelain face, and smeared the inside of the ceramic. His shoulders shook with the pressure of holding back sound. Despite his best efforts, a sob broke free, and Gai stifled it, biting down hard on his lip. Blood danced on his tongue as the wound reopened, and Gai kept pressing into the flesh, but the pain of the cut was nothing compared to the agony in his heart. Something other than tears dribbled down the side of his mouth, beading up and dripping off his chin.

Distracted, disoriented, distraught, Gai almost fell over from a rough grab at his right shoulder. He whipped at the offending hand and swung through empty air. Through tear-filled eyes, he spotted the greasy-black coat of the ANBU member, and looked up, up to the boar mask where behind huge hollowed eye slots, Gai saw two appraising amber irises.

“Yeah, I thought so. You _were_ the one who crashed into me earlier today. Aw, are you crying? _This_ your kid brother or something?” The boar canted its head to a side in mock concern, and Gai had never felt a twinge of fury as heated as the one he felt at that very second. Gai’s body was heaving air; his ragged breaths hit the inside of his mask, bouncing back onto his hot skin. The flames of Himizu’s pyre were large now, the smoke as tall as the boy had been, and the bright red blaze brought out the terrible diagonal cross across the center of the boar’s mask.

“You, Crybaby, what’s your name,” the captain ordered.

Gai wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He turned away, to look at the fire, and let his tears freely fall under his mask. He would grieve for Himizu, if no one else would. Himizu would not be alone in the dark.

However, the boar wouldn’t drop it so easily. Gai saw the glove reach out toward him again. “I said, ‘what’s your nam—’”

“What are you still doing here?!”

Another aggressive pull, this time at Gai’s left wrist. He fought to yank his hand away, but the grip was unyielding like a dog’s bite. In fact, it _was_ the dog who clutched at him. A flash of anger surged through him. Gai dug his heels into the ground and Kakashi, Captain Inu, looked back.

In the middle of Gai’s rebellious act, the boar had followed and stolen a place on Gai’s shoulder. A large, claw-like glove clamped over his cloaked skin. Gai tried to shake them off, throat tight when remembering where the captain’s gloves had been, but the crude boar would not simply release him.

“ _Inu_ , I wasn’t done talking to your—”

“Team Ro isn’t done with their mission, so butt out and mind your own business _._ I told cleanup to stop playing around on the job, which also includes you. Unless you can’t control your team so they're respectable?” Kakashi growled, pulling Gai in so that Yamakujira’s hand was off Gai’s shoulder. The ANBU working around them paused to regard the scene.

The boar’s hand curled into a fist, which they shoved on their side as they let out a loud, airy chuckle. It sounded fake even to Gai's ears.

“Go and finish your mission, Captain _Inu_. We’ll have to catch up later, Crybaby.” The behemoth laughed and turned tail, barking an order to their team.

Gai’s head was distant, thoughts unable to make it fully to his consciousness. Without giving Gai a second to breathe, Kakashi resumed directing him away from Himizu’s haphazard cremation. Gai fought it. He wasn’t done saying goodbye. Himizu was here and then gone in flames, just like — just like — Gai choked when Kakashi viciously seized him by the collar of the uniform and drew him in close, so close their masks lightly bumped against each other in a warped imitation of intimate proximity.

“Whatever you think you’re doing, you let that go. You have no time to mourn right now.” The dog whispered over the crackling fire. “If you have regrets let this be a lesson. Do better so you never have to cry over what could have been ever again, you hear me?”

For as roughly as Kakashi laid his hands on Gai, he released him gently.

“Come on. We still have to finish the mission.”

Gai didn’t know if he was nodding or if his head was too heavy a weight to bear. Nevertheless, it flopped forward.

Kakashi wasn't waiting any longer, if his retreating footsteps were any indication. Gai tried to get his feet to move, to carry on for Himizu, but found himself rooted to the ground. Some quiet, little part of Gai’s mind tried to argue that, as callous as Kakashi’s words had been, it was a graceless attempt at offering solace — No. He wouldn’t attest on behalf of Kakashi this time around. He pushed his misguided advocacy back down.

"Don't let him get to you. Captain gets like that whenever we lose someone," said a faint voice.

A tiny hand followed the words, lightly resting on his back. Itachi. He pushed Gai forward, and Gai weakly took a step.

"We can't stay here, Nezumi. We’re not done yet." The weasel murmured.

Gai’s eyebrows knitted together. What did Itachi mean? Didn’t they get all the hostiles?

Gai’s mind was jumping through hoops trying to decode what they were still doing in the forest. He barely registered the steady, unyielding nudges on his back which kept on propelling him forward, forward, forward like he was on a boat with the tide lapping at his side. It was only when he heard the rustling of the wind through the woods and saw the moonlight glinting off metal he noticed he had rejoined Team Ro near the forest’s edge.

“So I finished scouting ahead. The village is within fifteen minutes,” Neko reported, so focused on his task he didn’t acknowledge Itachi and Gai coming in.

“Okay. Uzura already notified me of Mangusu’s status. We’re heading out. Itachi. Nezumi. Come.” Kakashi didn’t even turn around to address them. He moved on, leaving Gai behind again.

Gai didn’t count how long it took for them to get to the site. He supposed Neko was right in his estimation, and Gai didn’t have it in him to time himself. Truthfully, moving there had been a blur. Green, brown, black, red, and then there they were. From the high vantage point of the pines, Team Ro surveyed the small village below, if one could even call it that. It was just a cluster of homes. Their chimneys spewed small plumes of white smoke.

“Points of interest?” Kakashi asked.

“Gunpowder stored in that big, straw-thatched roof over there, sir,” Neko mentioned, “and across the main road is some sort of armory. I saw men walk in and out with weapons. They seem a little jumpy.”

“Itachi,” Kakashi said.

“Yes.”

“How long can your fire jutsus last?”

“Up to two hours if I attribute a lot of my chakra.”

“I want you to create a ring around the village. Close off any escape. Then use a fireball to detonate the gunpowder.”

What?

“Wait, captain, aren’t they civilians?” Uzura’s alarmed warble floated up like dust, voicing Gai's thoughts.

“Even a child can pick up a weapon and exact revenge,” came Mangusu’s strained voice from the shadows of the pines, “Captain’s briefing said no hostiles, and that includes the village. If we leave them now they'll just regroup, angrier than before. Isn’t that right, captain? If you need any help, I can still—”

“No. You aren’t fit for battle. You’ll only slow us down. Four of us will go in. Itachi will set up the trap. Anyone running out of the fire, Neko, Nezumi, and I will strike them down.”

Nezumi? Kakashi wanted him down there? But Gai was Nezumi. Gai frowned and tightly closed his throbbing eyes. Red and white supernovas bloomed behind his eyelids, and muscles pulsed with fatigue. His body was getting tired. It hurt to think. It was painful to feel. But that was Gai. And he was Nezumi. Was Nezumi tired as he was, was Nezumi sick to death of fire? Or was Nezumi immune? Had to be for the sake of the mission, for the sake of his sanity?

“Itachi, on your mark.” Kakashi’s voice was ice pressing into the burns in Gai’s — no, Nezumi’s — mind.

"Go." Itachi's childish voice snipped through his scrambled thoughts.

It took seconds for the screaming to start anew. Or Nezumi thought it was only a few seconds. He didn’t know. He didn’t time the intervals between paranoid silence and psychotic noise. Instead, he followed the silver, the brown, the black, and the shining merciless metal. The flames were taller than any panicked man, or fearful woman yelling for their braying children.

The dog cut through a kimono-clad waist. The cat crushed an entire building, collapsing it onto hands reaching out from their new graves. The weasel set a family ablaze. And the mouse stood there vacantly, his witnessing as terrible as the acts committed. The moon was high in the sky with her mad, crescent grin as Team Ro slaughtered the defenseless.

To Nezumi’s left, another house erupted in fire, and he jumped away to avoid its sinister heat. Then he spotted her when he landed on his feet. A poor woman, a farmer’s woman, bleating helplessly as the livestock she must have tended. Trapped under a beam, she was clutching a baby to her chest. _Help. Help me, please._

He could no longer tolerate this.

Inside, the bright spirit of Gai emerged, casting away the apathetic mouse persona. He rushed over to help; he levered the singeing wood and lifted it off the woman. Her hair was wild, as erratic as her eyes when she looked up at Gai. Her skin had been burned, second-degree, and Gai couldn’t bear to see remnants of peeled, raw skin. _Quick, crawl out_ , he thought he said.

But she stayed where she was.

“Konoha murderer,” she spat at him and bared her missing teeth. She dropped the bundle of cloth at her breast. It unfurled with a rustle. There was no baby.

There was nothing.

Gai released the beam and leapt back, but he was too slow. His armor clanged and fabric ripped from the bloodthirsty lash of the woman’s sickle, drawn from under her blackened robe. She was a kunoichi, he realized. The curved hook of the sickle caught on the loose folds of the ANBU uniform and Gai lost his footing, unable to dodge the weighted metal chain which vaulted at him and wrapped around his neck.

Gai choked. His hands went up to yank the chainlinks constricting around his neck to no avail. She had a hold of him.

“You killed my husband, my son, you wretched monsters. Now, I’m going to kill you.” the kunoichi laughed, grief-mad.

Gai’s vision was spotting. The gates, he couldn’t feel them. He banged on those doors. Begged for power. His lungs begged for breath.

Her wrist wrapped around another length of chain, and the chokehold on Gai’s neck tightened. He could sense her next move, even as his vision blackened at the corners. The taut tension of the chainlink and the way her sickle gleamed dangerously in the fire and the moonlight — she was going to strangle him and then cut him open.

The rough, forceful tug came. Gai’s weak body fell forward without his volition. His knees hit the ground. The sickle came down. And blood rained upon Gai’s head as the woman’s hand was cut off by a short sword.

Her blood-curdling scream and the sudden release of pressure around Gai’s neck brought him to immediate reality. He gasped for air right when the chain went slack, and his hands pressed down on the warm dirt. The butchered hand fell onto the ground next to him, and Gai fell backward in shock. He tore his eyes up to watch Captain Inu behead the kunoichi with a sophisticated arc of his blade. The blood sprayed onto the dog mask, running down the sides of its unseemly neutral lips.

Then the dog was on him. Two bloody gloved hands were on Gai’s shoulders as Captain Inu shoved Gai back into the dirt. Pinned him hard.

“How many times are you going to deliberately disobey me today?!” Kakashi yelled in his face. “I told you, back in the trees, _everyone_ dies.”

Did he? Gai couldn’t remember. He reached to push Kakashi off but Kakashi restrained the hand and slammed it to the ground beside Gai’s head. It didn’t hurt. Gai couldn’t feel anything outside of how hard his heart was beating, madly drumming itself closer to its death.

“Did you really think the enemy wouldn’t lay traps? Wouldn't deceive you? How stupid can you be?!”

Was this concern? Was this callousness? Gai couldn’t read Kakashi anymore. Couldn’t tell if Kakashi liked him or hated him.

He tried to sit up but the dog sharply pressed the blade of his arm across Gai’s sternum, keeping Gai down.

"Whatever idea of morality you're clinging to so desperately, you should have left at home when you put on that mask. You are a tool wielded by the Hokage, a weapon for Konoha.”

Kakashi tightened his grip on Gai’s wrist. It was an emulation of skinship. In another time, another place, Gai would’ve been happy to be holding hands with his rival. His friend. Without warning, Kakashi’s hands flew once more, fists grabbed at Gai’s collar, and fingers twined in the uniform as he lifted Gai’s head forward. The hood started to slip a little.

“If I catch you not taking this seriously again, I will force you to kill until I am satisfied that you understand what it means to be in ANBU. Do I make myself clear?”

Kakashi’s mask was pushing onto Gai’s so hard that it hurt. He could almost feel the hot, hateful breath coming out of the dog’s snout. They were so close. This was the only way he and Kakashi could be close now, only as strangers.

“Stop fucking staring at me with that smile and say something, _you fake._ ”

Kakashi dropped him and the back of Gai’s head collided with the hard ground. Then Kakashi was off him. Or was he? Gai couldn’t recognize the difference in weight when he felt weightless and untethered.

“Go. It’s obvious to me you don’t belong here. Not everyone makes it. And you… you aren’t ANBU material.” At the start, Kakashi’s tone was direct, cold; another indifferent order. But slowly the words had faded into an uncertain emotion. Gai slipped his eyes closed as a thought emerged.

It was too compassionate.

Too nostalgic. Memories flashed of two black eyes and a hesitant, mouthless smile. A scoff. A shout. A score. A challenge. Rock-paper-scissors. A boy defending another boy defending his father — a nobody, a traitor. A riverbed. A grave. A promise.

“Good shinobi know when to retreat.” The soft voice from Gai’s past said.

Somehow, Gai sat up. Watched Kakashi’s back become fainter again as he failed to catch up to his Eternal Rival.

Somehow, Gai stood. Walked through the gore, the sick, the fire.

Somehow, Gai got home.

He crawled in through the window, disarming the traps. His leg caught on a pot, knocking it over carelessly. The plant’s limbs were sprawled out like a skeleton on his floor. Gai walked over it. He went into the washroom. Took off his clothes in the shower. Sachi-san was going to be mad about the rips and tears. She was going to be mad about the blood. He needed to wash it off.

He turned on the tap. The clothes slumped by his feet and bled out brown and red into the drain. He pulled the mask off. The wig went with it. He held it in his hands and watched translucent, reddish water sluice off the round ears, enter the slanted eyes, and bounce off red cheeks. The mouse mask shook. It shook because Gai could not stop shaking.

The memories of the past few hours came back. Gai crumpled into a crouch, scarred fingers clutching the mask; it was his only buoy to existence. His panicked lungs heaved life into him, life he knew others would never regain. The torrent of the shower pelted at his hair, which clung to his forehead and neck. Like the lone sailor in the wreckage of a capsized boat, cold water and hot tears threatened to drown him.

Gai didn’t want to go to bed. He knew what awaited him in sleep, and what would happen if he let that light go out. In the dark, there was Himizu, clawing at the ground, dragging himself across with broken legs and a bloody smear. There was Itachi, following the trail, all shadows save the silver of his sword ready to end what he thought was suffering. And there was Kakashi, dog mask fused to his face, white porcelain bone and red paint blood, his hair wild gunmetal. Corpses by his bare feet.

They were all so young. Himizu was fourteen. Itachi, eleven. And Kakashi? Twelve years old was when he went into the dark for the first time, and Gai had let him. Gai had let him go in there. Had failed to bring him back.

And ah, there it was.

The mask clattered on the shower floor. Gai grasped at his bruised collar, the place where Kakashi had left his mark. He hung his head and let out another short, fleeting gasp. The feeling burning up underneath his skin rivaled the trumpet-like blooms of blue and purple injuries.

It was _Shame_.

Gai hadn’t defeated that emotion, after all.


	5. columbine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The captain reflects on lost opportunities. In the light, he struggles. And in the dark, it's a dog-eat-dog world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone for waiting patiently on this story, and all the love we received on our other oneshot! in this chapter, there are content warnings for non-canonical depictions of mild gore, and references to dark thoughts. as before, we will include a pair of symbols indicating sections where viewer discretion is advised for graphic content. *taps on the tag #Hatake Kakashi Has Issues*
> 
> the ¤ symbol refers to the beginning of the aforementioned content and the ✶ symbol refers to the end of that passage. use these symbols as warnings before reading forward, or to skip sections. 
> 
> during fact-checking research, we learned that the memorial stone is not located near the cemeteries but it is placed in a training field (#3), far from the actual konoha cemeteries. in this story, that’ll be changed. in our perspective, it doesn’t make a lot of sense why such an important monument would be so far away from the other graves in konoha. ~~why wouldn’t the teams training in field #3 see visitors coming to the memorial stone to pay their respects all the time if it's such a special place listing all the names of ninja lost in battle?~~
> 
> also, if you're not in the loop, it's seven days until [kakagai week!](https://kkgweek.tumblr.com) there's also a [twitter](http://twitter.com/kakagaiweek) if you're on twitter. i hope everyone can participate, especially for us since we'll be working over the holidays :') we tried our best to incorporate some of the prompts. 
> 
> take care and hope you have a happy holiday season. no omake for this chapter but enjoy this surprise kakashi pov.
> 
> \- lapi

The night was coming to an end by the time Kakashi debriefed his mission to the Hokage. The low drone of his own voice irritated his ears like a persistent insect trying to worm its way inside his head, and the thoughts he was trying to avoid buzzed at the edge of his consciousness. Regardless, he was precise and methodical with his description of what had occurred. As always, the Sharingan helped; it recalled every detail. The hostile militia, as well as their small village near the border of Leaf and Grass had been eradicated. Nothing was left behind. The fire made sure of that, along with the squad leader himself.

Lord Third merely stared at the scroll laid on his desk. This briefing seemed to take longer than usual. Kakashi berated himself for thinking that a second after noticing. He endured stakeouts longer than this. He shouldn’t be so easily exhausted. So Kakashi stood patiently, waiting for a response.

“It says you had a casualty?” There was something in Hokage’s tone that Kakashi couldn’t pinpoint, much less have the bravery to inquire.

“Yes, one of the new recruits died.” Kakashi said.

“Which one?” The Hokage asked, finally flicking his eyes up from the debrief report. His voice came out in a raspy whisper.

“The scout. His name was Kibuna Warui.” Kakashi looked away, suddenly unable to meet the Sandaime's eyes. The squad member had only been fourteen years old, the elder of two boys. His mother was a civilian, father a tokubetsu jounin specialized in espionage. Kakashi had been given the specifics after the ANBU administration filed the death report.

The old man stiffened and sighed, and grimly nodded when Kakashi mentioned Cleanup had cremated the body. He carefully shuffled through the files in front of him before stopping on a personnel sheet.

“Ah, the boy…" Lord Hiruzen bowed his head for a moment before he spoke again with an affected frown, the creases of his forehead dug into the sunken skin. “Barely an ember... A true pity.”

Kakashi didn’t say anything in response. As the debrief was officially over and there wasn’t much else to add, he turned to leave exactly as the Hokage spoke once more.

“Don't be too hard on yourself over this loss. I’m sure you did your best, Kakashi.”

How many times had Lord Third said that to him this year alone? He was reminded of what Yamakujira said earlier that night, swarmed by the firefly-light of Cleanup’s disgusting lanterns. Kakashi's kill count included people within his own team; their blood was on his hands. He fell short to protect them. How was he the squad leader when he failed to pull those who trusted him out of Death’s clutches. If only they listened. If only they didn’t rush in.

Kakashi held his breath and instinctively gritted his teeth. The buzzing grew louder in his head, then realization caught up to his tired thought process in due course. It wasn't buzzing. It was the whirling of the tomoe in his left eye, spinning and spinning. Although he knew the Sandaime couldn’t see his eyes behind his mask, Kakashi felt pathetic considering shutting the Sharingan in front of the leader of Hidden Leaf. The Hokage was already pitying him. Kakashi didn’t need to give another cause for pointless worry.

“Kakashi?” The Hokage called out.

“Yes, Lord Third,” he automatically replied.

"It's been a long night. Get some rest.” The old man’s voice was surprisingly hushed. Somehow, it made the sickening sensation within Kakashi’s gut swell. The Hokage dismissed him with another unfamiliar look underneath that wrinkled brow, and Kakashi flickered out, responding to those words with silence.

 _Get some rest_. Those oddly rueful words echoed in his head as he flickered in front of his home and turned the doorknob to the flat.

"That's funny," he said as he looked into the dark, empty apartment. He closed the door behind him and leaned his forehead on its cool surface for a second. He breathed out slowly only to be interrupted by a pang of pain in his stomach as it loudly growled. That's right, he hadn't eaten in hours, not since before the mission. Shit. Did he even have anything in the fridge? Well, it didn’t matter. He went days without food on missions. As long as he wasn’t dying of thirst, he could spare his stomach a stupid meal for a few more hours.

After a thorough shower, he sat on his bed in his nightclothes. Somehow the stench of fire smoke still clung to his skin, and Kakashi fought the urge to retch. It must have been chakra, the oil, the ingredients in the firestarters, an element in the wretched concoction that had made this scent of flame and ash so viciously tenacious. He inspected his hands and evaluated how the skin had gone pruny. Maybe he had over-washed them, but the reddish tinge he thought he saw under his nails felt gritty, like dried blood. Did he not soap them enough?

Glancing at the clock ticking on his table, Kakashi resigned himself to a single, long, and inaudible sigh that slipped down his shoulders. The time was well past three, way too late. Another shower in the morning, then.

What rest, he thought again, this time with a sardonic smile under his mask. He wouldn’t pull this face in front of the Sandaime, but here in the apartment, the thoughts came naturally as the breaths his chest pulled from the air.

What if Kakashi had done better? Where did he go wrong this time? What wasn’t he getting?

Was that really the best he could do?

The small bed squeaked as he shifted and Kakashi firmly planted his feet on the floor. Warily he raised a hand. Come on, he sneered at himself. He couldn’t afford to be a coward and run away. Gripping the fear out of his hand through sheer determination alone, Kakashi launched the hand to block his right eye, and opened the Sharingan on his left. Willing the memories from that night back to the forefront of his mind, he relived the mission through the Sharingan's perfect recall.

Five hours ago, Team Ro had made contact with the hostiles near Hidden Grass. Facsimiles of swords, flesh, and blood blitzed through the Sharingan’s photographic memory, all tied together by the moon’s cold gaze. Fukuro fell back, but Kakashi had been busy with his share of shinobi. He easily spotted his mistakes in retrospection; Kakashi could have gone for an Earth-style submission to speedily dispatch them. He could have taken to the trees, used explosive tags. And he would, for future missions. He vowed to not make the same mistake twice.

The next events happened so fast that Kakashi knew he had no way to make more than a split second decision. Himizu’s white porcelain mask was swallowed by the black forest. Neko’s sword flew out of their grip in a swordfight. And as the captain, Kakashi made his choice. He slew the charging man, saving Neko. He would do anything to prevent losing a squadmate. Anything.

But in the end, he still did, didn’t he? Himizu had died.

Outside of the Sharingan’s replay, Kakashi’s leg began to tremble, anticipating the memories to come. He felt disappointed in himself at his body's response. After everything he had seen while in ANBU, he thought he would have lost this childish fear of witnessing death. Kakashi willed the shaking leg into a solid pillar and focused again.

In his recollections, the flames of the funeral pyre were high and in the orange blaze was the mouse. Crying. All behind that drawn-up clownish smile. The juxtaposition of that grinning, almost mocking smile and the anguish-filled sobs behind it caused his stomach to churn painfully with discomfort.

In the heat of battle, in missions in general, Kakashi couldn’t allow himself to feel. If he did, he’d be like Nezumi — struck dumb with sentimentality. Stunned and frozen with grief. Who cried like that in ANBU? Kakashi never would have guessed the administration would recruit someone like… Like—

No. Crying was useless. Especially in ANBU. It was a waste of time, energy. Kakashi didn’t know why, but it bothered him seeing that grief. Open and free. So unlike a ninja. Glimpses of that night; the cloaked figure by Himizu’s burning corpse, Nezumi’s downcast head, the slippery soaked collar Kakashi had gripped, the way his own dog mask pushed against the hard ceramic of the mouse, all of those images were starting to blur as the words of a friend long-dead resonated in his ears. Kakashi felt moisture welling up in his eye and slammed his hand over his Sharingan.

He wouldn’t get caught up in needless overemotion. Again, who in ANBU acted like that? His own performance review completed and once more not to his standard, Kakashi had no choice but to force himself to draw up the covers and slip into bed. Another day was coming and so would another mission, and the next mission had to go well. It had to.

¤

But of course, it was a mission gone wrong. Even with Kakashi's record, his meticulousness, his strict regimen for order, all of his preparedness — some missions nevertheless went wrong.

His squad. Where were they? He stood alone in the cave chamber, leg-deep in a small cave lake. The cold, rocky karst surrounding him glowed an eerie blue-gray and tinted his skin a deathly color. The groundwater rose up to his knees now. The cave’s passageway must have led him to a sinkhole. The water was heavy as it seeped into his clothes. Try as Kakashi might to temper his physical responses, his cowardly skin puckered into gooseflesh. From the cold, he told himself. It was from the cold.

His left eye spun on its whorling iris, and the pupil dilated without Kakashi’s precise control calming it. Sometimes, the Sharingan acted on its own, ached on its own, and Kakashi hated it.

Focus, he berated himself. Pay attention to the water.

The liquid was clear until he moved his foot and a small cloud of silt floated up to cover his sandal in a beige milk. Hm. Loose ground. If he took a wrong step, he’d sink right into a cenote. There was no foretelling the currents underneath the cave lake's surface. Drowning was a possible death. If his mouth was occupied by water, he wouldn't be able to activate any jutsu. An advantage for whoever could be preying him from the shadows. Kakashi surveyed around him and took in more of the somber stone walls. This was a branchwork cave, in all likelihood.

He cautiously waded further. Water rose to his waist. A dendritic stream. He organized his thoughts. Was he in a tributary of the main river where groundwater recharge occured? How close was he to the source of the groundswell? Would a water release collapse the rock he precariously stood upon?

If anything, leaving the water would be a dead giveaway to his position. Therefore, there were no other options. He had to go.

Kakashi trudged further into the freezing water. Chest, neck, and eventually head submerged under the cave spring. He held his breath. And just as quick as a breath, he _noticed._ Snapping his eyes open, he easily sucked in air into his lungs, not water. His breath came out unimpeded since he was on dry ground.

Immediately, Kakashi leapt into the air and his fingers deftly formed the Tiger Seal, pressing into each other tightly. The Kai release was perfect. But nothing changed.

Landing softly back onto dusty ground, Kakashi examined the barren cave chamber he found himself in. The rock formations were different. Two disparate eyes mapped the contours of jagged stalactites tapering down to their partner stalagmites below. Those calcium deposits appeared old; no moisture shone on their surfaces. He took a breath again, and narrowed his eyes when he felt his chest expand out. Fuck. He clicked his tongue in impassive silence. How stupid; it was a rookie mistake to hold your breath.

Eyes blinked, mapping and remapping, and after his inspection, he made up his mind. There was no other conclusion, anyway. Kakashi had to be someplace else. That pool of water before, it had to be some sort of transporting jutsu.

Drawing a kunai, he swiped at the ground. Left an innocuous mark that no one else but he could decipher. Checkpoint made. Kakashi looked around, and let the Sharingan drink in the view, filling the canteen of his photographic memory. He would find the way back to his team soon, after vetting for any hostiles within this chamber.

As if replying to his thoughts, something echoed from the caves. His sensitive ears picked up another sound. A muffled sound. A shameful one. Kakashi frowned, at last allowing a rare emotion to bleed through the calm veneer of his mask. The kunai was a dull black in the low light, Kakashi a blacker shadow as he stuck close to the corners of the cavern. He stalked toward the beckoning noise, creeping along the edges of the caves. There was another opening, right there.

He entered another hollow, primed to kill — and almost dropped his knife at the sight before him. In the center of a slab of bleak, raised stone, a stray moonbeam pierced through the gloom. Shining under its exposing glare was a white porcelain beacon. A member of Team Ro.

The mouse. And something in his arms.

The Sharingan jittered when it identified the object. Kakashi forced himself to grip his kunai again. If he hadn't, the knife would have fallen to the floor from his numbing fingers.

Nezumi was crying, holding the headless corpse of — who? Who was it? They had no head — Kakashi stared at the blood and bone, and closed his eyes. Fighting his urge to throw up, he tried to look away, wrench his neck to a side, but he was pinned. Forced to watch Nezumi curling into the dead body now, the shinobi’s spine was a comma with a heavy crown. The nose of the mouse mask touched the wound. The blood oozed everywhere, dripping down the white porcelain and spilling down the squadmate’s cloak. Were Nezumi’s tears mixing with the blood? Was it soaking into the fabric again, wet and mushy as it had been under Kakashi’s death grip during that mission near Hidden Grass?

Get away, Kakashi wanted to scream to his squadmate, get away from — from — he let out a feral growl when his duplicitous memory couldn’t recollect who the headless ANBU was. Momonga? Kuroten? Himizu? Kaba? Dachou? Who? Who the fuck was that, bleeding out from their severed neck?

The mouse paid no mind to Kakashi. In fact, he didn't notice Kakashi at all. He crumpled further forward in his embrace, silencing himself in the dead body. Kakashi's face pulled in all directions, eyebrows frowning and releasing, mouth bearing teeth and next, clamping down close-lipped. Anger swirled inside him. _You're too noble._ Pity grabbed at his heart. _You're too soft. You don't belong in ANBU; it'll ruin you._

After a shuddering, labored breath echoed off the cave walls, the quiet crying returned. Kakashi wanted to block his ears. Nezumi’s sobbing was unfamiliarly familiar; it tore something right out of Kakashi’s chest. It was these muffled, bruised gasps, the way the breath hitched like inhaling was too hard. Like the body demanding to live was perversely the very reason killing it—

Where? Where did Kakashi hear this before? Why did Kakashi’s body react so violently, and craved it to stop? His brain was screaming, _stop, fucking stop, you’re not supposed to sound like that, please_ — but why? To who? Kakashi's Sharingan spun madly like a caged animal, pacing through scenario after recorded scenario but his eidetic memory came up empty.

Each cry Nezumi made was a knife's blade entering the skin, slicing the muscle, cutting the vein, penetrating the cell. His stomach burned in pain; something was clawing inside and caught Kakashi's inner flesh under its nails. He choked off his own harsh exhale of alarm and clutched at his body, in futile attempt to hold things together.

Fuck, hah. _Fuck_. Was Kakashi going to die just like that old fool did and become another failure for the Hatake legacy? He refused to look down and check. He forced his hand away from the severe pain emanating from his belly.

"Nezumi." Kakashi called out, choosing to focus back on his weak, whimpering teammate than the fear threatening to overtake his own limbs.

The mouse raised his head, but did not look at Kakashi. He appeared to be transfixed, staring off in the distance of the dark, morose cavern. The moonlight illuminated the porcelain profile, shining off of a single tear trail of blood. It spilled down the eye slot and met that rouge cheek. Kakashi rumbled in his throat. That idiot, what was he doing? Rage built up in Kakashi's fists. The kunai in his grip was shivering in anticipation; it knew the human hand was the most dangerous weapon of all.

Kakashi took a step forward. He ignored the spilling sensation from his mid-section. Those were imaginary feelings, not his physical body. Guilt. Not his guts. Nothing real to hold him back. Feelings could change like the seasons. Guilt could be devoured by righteous fury.

"I remember," another step, "I told you," closer now, "you don't belong here," a little more.

The knife’s looped ring spun around Kakashi's gloved finger, and next snapped into place, point shooting out sharp and deadly. The mute fool continued to stare off into the distance. Kakashi gritted his teeth, now in proximity to his squadmate. Facing the despondent mouse mask and ignoring the corpse, he harshly asked, "Why don't you go? Give up already."

He pressed the kunai to Nezumi's neck. No killing intent. But no flinch, either. Just nothing. Somehow, seeing that passivity, that open trust, enraged Kakashi. Did this guy not know who Kakashi was? What he was capable of? How many people had died by his hand, foe and friend alike?

"You don't follow the shinobi rules. You don't listen to me at all." Kakashi's tone dove into an unspoken threat.

He flicked his wrist up. The kunai twisted underneath the edge of the mask. Kakashi felt the soft dip of flesh against the flat side of his blade, and touched the human face underneath the hard porcelain. Kakashi could cut off the strap now. Unmask Nezumi. Identify the visage which evaded the Uchiha Sharingan. Watch the fearful expression with his Hatake glare.

“I listened to you.”

There was a whisper behind him. Surprised, Kakashi spun around and saw it.

A white, featureless porcelain mask floated in the shadow. Nothing but the head. Without hesitation, Kakashi drew the kunai out from Nezumi’s mask and threw it toward the unknown enemy. It plunged straight into the center of the forehead with a sharp thunk. The mask fell back into the shroud. Enemy ninja.

“Flee, you—” Kakashi ordered, looking back to address no one. The mouse was gone. The corpse had decayed into a skeleton by Kakashi’s feet. He took a panicked step aside and immediately a femur broke down into dust.

“I thought you said we don’t abandon our teammates, Captain.”

Kakashi whipped his head around to the new source. It sounded like a recruit he knew. Once. More masks floated up from the darkness, murmuring. Closer they came, and entered the thin path of moonlight. The white light washed over their features like rising water. Cleaned them of shadow.

“I followed you, Captain.”

Kakashi couldn’t stop staring. Their bodies — if Kakashi could call them that — were partly decomposed.

“Why didn’t you protect me, Captain?”

Kakashi edged away from the lumbering, approaching figures and glanced behind to see more of the decrepit creeping toward him from all directions. He was surrounded, stuck on that islet of rock, under the burning glare of the unforgiving moon.

Fuck. Make a path out, now.

Swiftly, Kakashi shot out a trio of chakra-charged shuriken. His aim could have been better. Less panicked. He swore when they released from his fingers at a suboptimal angle. One hit a disfigured leg and tripped the mask bearer, who crashed into the stone. Another pinned the remnants of clothing and a busted chest to a stalactite. The last one swiped the skull, but wasn’t enough to knock the head backward, to break the cervical column of the spine. All it did was knock the mask off. The figure swung like a rubber toy, and righted back into a wobbly stand.

“Why did you break your promise?” The voice, unobstructed without the mask, echoed clearly in the cave cavern. Kakashi’s breath hitched in his throat, ran back down to his lungs, and hid in the pulmonary veins when he recognized her.

Rin’s mouth was speckled with dried blood; and from those ashen lips she called out, “Kakashi.”

A fake. Kakashi focused his Sharingan on her, ready to unravel any jutsu, and only saw her broken smile peeling up death-pale features. She wasn’t an illusion. This was real.

Rin raised a bony, rot-mottled hand. Shuffled her uneven legs forward.

“S-stay back, don’t come near me!” He warned her, put his right hand out to stop her approach — only to be blinded by pulsating, screeching electricity shooting from his palm. But he didn’t. He didn’t activate Chidori. Worse was he couldn’t turn it off. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The chakra would not stop flowing into his arm and illuminate his skin a terrible blue-white.

“Kakashi, what are you doing? Help her!” A bratty shout.

Kakashi couldn’t believe his ears. There was no way. From the corner of his Sharingan, he saw its red match from the darkness, and only the red orb. Even without any other features to distinguish the caller, a name dizzily stumbled into Kakashi’s consciousness.

“Obito?” He croaked. But saying the name had chased it off. The red was gone. Swallowed back into the black pitch.

“Obito!” Kakashi repeated, leg poised to run after that tiny spark in the cave’s shade, but found himself immobilized. The white masks blocked his path, were too close. Rin was too close. Kakashi struggled, his sparking right arm outstretched and angled as far away from the bodies as physically possible.

“No, get away, I don’t want to hurt you!” He insisted. Move the arm away. Don’t kill her. Do not kill her. Not again.

“Help! Captain, please—” One porcelain mask begged. Fell to Kakashi’s legs and hugged his calf. He pulled out of that cold grip and kicked them back. It wasn’t enough. The rolling body rose back up.

“Don’t leave—” A featureless face collided into his chest in a devastating embrace. The back of their head had a hollow dip in it, and appalling sparse patches of broken hair barely covered the squished dent. Kakashi’s keen nose picked up the scent of grave dirt, maggots, and putrid flesh. He twisted out of the hug, pushing the body away with his free hand, and winced when it hit the stone with a wet splatter.

“I don’t want to die, take me with you—”

The Chidori was screaming over their wails; an eagle thirsting to feast. To kill.

“You promised. You promised you'd protect us,” Rin whispered as she reached out for Kakashi’s bright-hot hand. He felt her fingers twine around his before her digits melted off into plasma.

✶

“No!” Kakashi cried and flung the tangled bed sheet off of him. It flopped onto the floor. Breathing erratically, he stared at that mass of cotton with a procured kunai in his sweaty grip, ready to stab whoever lurked under that sheet. The clock’s ticking hand struck twenty seconds, twenty-one. Nothing moved except from Kakashi’s chest, rising and falling spasmodically. Twenty-five seconds now. If someone was there, Kakashi would have been dead by now. Put away the knife, his mind told his shivering body. It was a nightmare.

Hatake Kakashi was over them now. He had to be.

After a minute of holding his stance, he broke form. Kakashi placed the kunai on the windowsill. He got up and childishly kicked his blanket once. Then he threw it back onto his bed, and followed suit.

Face-planting into his hot, sticky pillow, he reiterated his recent memories. Ground himself back in reality. Seized at his cavilling abdomen.

Breathe in. It was June. Breathe out.

Nine years had passed. He was no longer that useless ten year-old kid. He was nineteen, going on to two decades of living. Minato-sensei was dead. Rin was dead. Obito was dead. Kakashi was alive.

Kakashi’s right hand twitched and he opened one black eye to gaze at it. Thin branching scars only Kakashi could pick out from his moonlit skin traversed alongside blue veins. He killed forty-seven people today. Only eleven were ninja. That count tore out a grunt from his throat, along with another wheezy breath.

Frantically Kakashi's hands moved in a furious patting around the bed. He sat up and pushed blankets and pillows aside looking for it. Searching through the murk of the apartment, his eye strained around his room, only to discover the target was where he had left it on the shelf the night before.

The moonlight barely had a chance to shine over the cover before Kakashi was flipping through the pages of his book. It was becoming more and more commonplace to reach for the orange-covered novel, and he ignored the dull throb when he landed onto his thin mattress on his back. Just like every night, his eyes flitted through frequented text until the words got denser, tighter, blurrier. He blinked to regain focus, and his tired, overexerted hand loosened its grip. The paperback landed on his face with a painful _thwap._

It was so pathetic all Kakashi could let out was a single bark of laughter at his stupid existence. Fuck. His arm hurt. His nose stung. Though he should remove the book pressing against his face, the urge was less and less. He was already adapting, getting used to the constant weight pushing down on him. What was the point of feeling discomfort? He had endured heavier.

But, a part of his mind suggested, it would be boring to not even read the pages _._ It was getting to a good part, something about promises made at a tree on the hill… warm and tender and far, far away from the reality of the morning that would soon dawn on him. Yeah, he needed respite. Relief.

Kakashi pulled the book off his face to squint at streaming sunlight. Oh.

It was already morning.

“Hah,” Kakashi chuckled, no joy to the sound. How many times had he woken up like this lately? He sat up, rolled his shoulders, and put the book back onto the shelf next to his bed’s headboard. Maybe another night he’d be able to move on from that chapter once and for all. He flipped onto his belly and buried his face into the pillow.

His stomach twisted in itself again. He sighed, turned to lie flat on his back, and let his sight fade into the off-white of the ceiling. He’d get something to eat after _visiting._

* * *

Hundreds of graves dotted the field in neat rows like soldiers standing at attention, even in death. Each resting place was marked by identical white headstones, with the only determinator of any individuality being the names etched into the slabs. Wilted flowers and stray leaves peppered a few. The academy students would come by to sweep the graves and replace the flowers when the school opened. But at this time there was no one at the Konoha Cemetery except for one man.

Kakashi pressed his palms together in front of the stone grave. The itchy smell of incense from another memorial site wafted over to his old teacher’s headstone. Kakashi wrinkled his nose underneath his mask; the scent reminded him of last night’s mission.

“Sorry I didn’t bring any flowers, Minato-sensei. The florists weren’t open at five in the morning,” he explained. His teacher wouldn’t mind, but it felt right to say the reason. His gaze moved to the next name.

“Obito, I’m sorry. I lost another one. I… I don’t think I’m getting any better at this,” he chuckled dryly, “What kind of future did you envision seeing when you gave me this eye, honestly… I’m no good at teaching the lessons you taught me. I keep letting you down, huh?”

Kakashi’s eye traveled down to the last name. Nohara Rin.

“Rin, you too.”

He never knew what to say to her in life and that fact didn't change now that she was gone. Shoving his hands into his pockets of the ANBU uniform, Kakashi turned on his heel. There was one more grave awaiting his visit, but Kakashi by this time was feeling the post-mission drain hollow out his bones like osteoporosis. Each brittle step out of the cemetery shoved Kakashi’s thoughts forward, stringing them into coherence. The dead recruit wouldn’t get a memorial service for a while until the ANBU admins came up with a good cover story for the family.

How long would it take for Kibuna Warui’s name to show up on the Memorial Stone? And when Warui had his place, it wouldn’t list how Warui was a son or a child, would it? The stone would only state his name, and leave no other trace of his identity. The final resting place would only acclaim the fact Warui was a faceless soldier. Like Obito, Rin. In the end, they were all the same in death, weren’t they. Weapons of Konoha.

Perhaps it was that painful thought, or the low but persistent growl of his stomach that had been going on since he arose, but there was an ache within his body that seemed to crash into all of Kakashi’s receptors. His skin flash-heated incredibly hot and his head spun for a second too fast he almost tripped on his own feet. He managed to prevent himself from falling, muscle memory and his own training as a shinobi maintaining a stand, although a skewed one. Shit. His body was alerting Kakashi he was heading into a physical crash if he didn’t do anything about it.

He didn’t even remember what he ate for breakfast, perhaps a soldier pill? Did he even eat? His stomach rallied again. Fine. He could go get food. The Marketplace might have something.

In general, Kakashi tended to avoid the crowded main roads. By this time, there would be carts rolling up near the Marketplace, and he wasn't taking his chances with the donkeys pulling them. The back alleys were much quicker, quieter. He hated meandering about, sightseeing, all that useless pleasantry anyway. The only details to notice, to count, to memorize, were productive ones.

He walked into another thin dirt path around the storehouses in the peaceful parts of the Konoha Marketplace, heading to his usual little go-to convenience store just beyond this end of this route. However, as he turned the corner, he stopped when an unusual feature obstructed his secret passage. A distance away, at the end of the dusty road of the alley, was a small blond boy holding a ball. As blazing as the sunlight heated the side of his mask, an equally chilling cold sweat prickled the back of his neck as his brain commanded: _run_. Kakashi knew who he had come across. The Kyuubi.

Chasing down that flight instinct was Kakashi’s fight instinct. The memories of that night came back, clouding over Kakashi’s thoughts. The night had been black and red. A distorted picture zoomed out, since Kakashi had not been at the frontlines. He and the rest of his generation had been sequestered in the safety of the woods. As if they had been lambs, dull and innocent to the happenings around them. Gritting his teeth, Kakashi wished for the same wish he always had whenever he was reminded of that event.

If Kakashi had been there that night, maybe he could have helped. Or joined the Fourth in death where he should have been from the start. Would Kakashi be a hero if he put his knife to the child’s neck now? With how everyone judged this kid, he could be. It could be _that easy_ to turn the Hatake legacy around.

_But could you even go through with it?_

Kakashi argued that he could. ANBU was the darkness, and in that darkness was where he melded into its penumbra. He was depraved enough to do it; he murdered civilians in cold blood just the night before. He would take no chances which could jeopardize his mission or his comrades. It was what Mangusu said, what Kakashi had taught her. Even a child could pick up a weapon and exact revenge.

And this kid had killed everyone. This child had even killed his parents. Minato-sensei and Kushina-san.

The small boy didn't perceive him. The child threw his ball against the wall and played by himself, this boring, lonely game of one-person catch, totally innocent to Kakashi's sinister speculations.

Ignorance _was_ bliss, huh.

Did the Kyuubi know the pain he had caused with his birth? Did this kid know he killed his own mother by being born? Kushina-san, she was so warm and kind. Though the situation was dissimilar, Kakashi was reminded about his own mother’s passing. He killed her while he was in the womb. Did this child feel the guilt Kakashi felt at times? Or since the kid was too young to know and it was forbidden to tell him of his birth-sin, would he never feel guilty of being the cause of his mother’s death?

Kakashi’s father had once said his mother fought hard, that she would be happy Kakashi was alive. But those words of solace held no meaning now. Not when it came from a disgraced dead man like Hatake Sakumo.

His father had married outside of their clan's interests, not even opting to build relations with Konoha's other ninja clans, but had instead fallen in love with a woman from a land beyond the known lands. Apparently Kakashi’s mother was the descendant of a clan which could only be translated as Kudara. The daughter of a skilled swordsmith, and talented in bladework herself, the dowry had provided the finest offerings of tempered steel and bronze.

Nonetheless, she was a civilian foreigner who couldn't even speak the language. And in the eyes of the Hatakes, she was despised as an utter downfall to their reputed nobility. After the marriage, they abandoned Sakumo and the Hatake name. It was long before Kakashi's birth, so when Sakumo had killed himself, no clansmen rose up to take Kakashi under their ward. Perhaps there were no Hatakes left in Konoha; they could have exited the Village in mass protest. Well, they would be the first of many to turn their backs on Kakashi's disappointing father.

_"I believe the White Fang is a true hero!"_

Hah. Kakashi let out a breath. What was he doing? After all Obito had said. And then there was…

_"Kakashi! I will defend Sakumo-san's honor with my life! He is and will always be a hero in my eyes!"_

Kakashi's chest twinged with an unusual and pleasant warmth. He hadn't noticed he had closed his eyes until the loud crack of wood striking wood and a shrill scream sent the local birds flying in a chorus of whip-crack wingbeats.

A middle-aged woman, eyes blazing with outrage, struck the side of the wooden shack again with the handle of her broom. The scratched-up ball the boy had been playing with was by her feet, and she smacked it away toward the trash bins on the side of the alleyway, creating a crashing ruckus.

"Get out! Go away! You nasty boy, you're a bad omen!" She screamed to the shaking child, who immediately sprang to run.

It was in that instance where Kakashi got a good glimpse of the Kyuubi's face. A thin bridged nose like Minato-sensei's. Eyes wide and blue like Kushina-san's. And intensely fearful. The woman lifted up her broom — Kakashi should go in and stop her, zip in like the Yellow Flash would, faster than lightning’s heavenly strike — but the boy ran, missing the downswing of the broom’s brush. Kakashi stood there, watching that blond bolt escape into the main street.

In reaction, Kakashi was hot on the boy’s heels, springing into motion as his many years within ANBU had honed his body to naturally respond. He told himself the pursuit was to see what would happen, if the encounter with the woman would awaken the devious demon fox within the child, if Kakashi was needed to keep the peace. Establish order.

However, the main street of the marketplace was nothing short but chaotic. The boy skittered to and fro in between the crowd and the carts like a scared animal to the shouts of many. Swiftly following the frenetic trail of the Ninetails, Kakashi narrowly dodged a merchant who had the bright idea of stopping suddenly to look at his map. The ANBU commander leapt, soaring over the cart of earthenwares, and landed to glimpse the slightest blur of yellow at the edges of his periphery.

He swung his head to see, and instead found green. Literal green. Kakashi's breath caught at the seams of his lungs when he picked out the figure in the distance checking out some vegetables in the open. Was that Gai? Shit. Not now.

_Would he approve of what you're doing?_

Of what, tailing the Kyuubi kid? Of being in ANBU? The latter, Kakashi knew Gai hated. It was why he had tried to get Kakashi out, supposedly even going to the Hokage to plead on his knees. It had been the talk of town for a short while, and even reached the halls of the ANBU barracks.

His hands balled into fists. To what lengths did Kakashi have to go so Gai would stay away? Would Gai’s admiration of Eternal Rivalry forgive and forget that day, that so-called diplomacy mission? When Gai had been so revolted by what Kakashi did to those members of Hidden Stone? What was he enduring for Kakashi’s sake? What sort of pitiful hope was Gai holding on for?

_Is hope pitiful?_

Kakashi looked away, away from Gai, away from the memory of that pained, collapsed look on his friend's face during that eventful mission. The poor apology at the Memorial Stone. He turned his focus back to where he thought he saw the Kyuubi.

However, there was nothing. The boy had fled back into obscurity. The shadows. He sniffed in annoyance. Although he could track the demon fox, Kakashi had no idea where the boy made his home. He told himself he had no intention to know.

And yet, Kakashi was morbidly curious.

What had Lord Third and the Council of Elders decided to do with the Kyuubi outside of this meager attempt of laying him low? _Uzumaki_ Naruto, was it? The ANBU grimaced under his mask at the familiar clan name. But did one’s _name_ really matter? No, it was all about one's _actions_ which made a person good, as well as evil. If the Sandaime gave the order, could Kakashi really do it? Kill his teacher's only child? The current host of the Ninetails?

_You’re soft._

He was _too_ soft. Bitterly, Kakashi glanced toward the spot of green in the otherwise bland and featureless marketplace. Could he body flicker out before Gai noticed him… No, Gai was a jounin, and a skilled one at that. He probably already detected Kakashi. Then, what kind of challenge would Gai propose today? Any moment now, Gai was going to raise a hand in an energetic wave, goofy and shiny grin in place, and yell out a ‘Rival!’ so loud it would gather all the heads in the Marketplace.

Goddamnit, there was no way out this time. Sighing, Kakashi relegated himself to his fate. He awaited Gai to call out his name or to launch onto Kakashi with a hug. It was inevitable. On that account, Kakashi prepared his body, tightening up his stance so as to not be overblown by the impact. He braced himself for an embrace which never came.

That was odd. Kakashi tilted his head to brave another glance to confirm, and yes it was _him_ , a dash or so away. Gai was still absorbed in whatever he was looking at. To Kakashi, it appeared as if the other shinobi was blankly looking into space. Which was, for a lack of a better descriptor, unusual. Gai in general was an _unusual_ ninja compared with their fellows, but there was an offness in this manner that Kakashi couldn’t place. Gai often daydreamed and spoke aloud of his fanciful goals, but he was always present with whoever he was with. Always _in_ the moment.

It was something he always managed to pull Kakashi into: a moment where he could be fully present.

Things were amiss, and what kind of shinobi would Kakashi be if he didn’t look underneath the underneath. Deciding to investigate because of its strangeness, Kakashi weaved through the crowd. He gained proximity with each step and yet Gai wasn’t registering Kakashi on his radar. The jounin simply drooped his head (to which Kakashi frowned) and stared at some bell peppers. Kakashi slowly was within reach. Next he realized he had no idea what to say, but his feet were continuing on.

How about a _'Hey, Gai?'_ No. Another step, _'Yo, what are you doing?'_ Did that even sound natural? Closer now, _'What’s with that look? Didn’t meet the requirements of one of your self-rules?'_ A remark like that was too commonplace... a little more, think of something and— shit, there wasn’t enough time. Gai was at most only a foot away.

The Noble Green Beast raised his head, but did not look at Kakashi. He appeared to be absentmindedly gazing into the sky. The sunlight illuminated the tawny profile, shining off of a cut cheekbone. Gai wiped at something that trickled down his cheek, probably a bead of sweat. It _was_ hot, wasn't it. Kakashi suddenly had a tickle in his throat he wished to clear.

Slowly, he drew his hand out of one of his pockets for a greeting as to not startle—

“Gai-kun!”

From Kakashi’s point of view, he saw Gai spin around so fast he was concerned the taijutsu master pulled a muscle. The tense lines of that carved body immediately relaxed though, when the caller stepped outside of the shop to speak with Gai at the stall displays. Goddamnit. It was that lady. The vegetable vendor.

This stall wasn’t Kakashi’s go-to, he mainly bought his produce from convenience stores since he finished missions in the dead of the night. Overall her prices for vegetables were fine, but he had a hunch she overcharged whenever he bought eggplants in season. She had cited they were organic, as if that sort of crap mattered. Organic was a cheap sales tactic to make scrawny vegetables appear superior in Kakashi’s point of view.

Plus, her laugh was as annoying as the magpies that roosted outside of Kakashi's apartment window during their stupid mating season. And it was their stupid mating season right now. Next to her was Gai, though, roped into another of the vendor's wily diatribes. Gai laughed during the conversation, bubbly bright like seafoam, and Kakashi hated how instantly his mind made that comparison.

Gai was like that, Kakashi reckoned. He gave everyone a fair share of his time. Speaking of which, it was Kakashi's turn now. Although Gai in all things equal wouldn't give a damn, Kakashi felt the slightest bit of guilt in ignoring his friend’s invitation the other day.

"Yo, Gai. Stocking up for curry again?" Kakashi drawled, interrupting whatever the woman was saying. The shopkeep gave him a short look, whispered over to Gai, and waddled off, hands fixing the ties of her green apron. Good riddance.

“O-oh, Kakashi! Rival!” Gai began, clapping his hands once. The slap of his palms sounded tacked-on. “What are you doing here?”

Ignoring the question, Kakashi probed with his own, “I asked you first, didn’t I? Have you had breakfast yet? You seem, hm, a little less _youthful_. Not as energetic.”

His manner of interrogating Gai had not only the benefit of teasing the other jounin but also getting Kakashi the information he sought. Heh, Gai would imminently pout and balloon up those cheeks of his. Would argue that he was in the prime of his Eternal Springtime or some other flowery metaphor. Would return to normal.

Except none of that happened.

“Ah, hah. I don’t know where you got that impression, Kakashi. I am as strong as ever,” Gai claimed.

Gai smiled, teeth, thumb, all of it perfectly posed that his famously reassuring Nice Guy Pose had the opposite effect. The pose wasn’t exclusive to Gai, others would signify their statements with a thumbs up of their own. Kakashi even caught himself subconsciously doing it at times, and just yesterday one of the new bumbling recruits had held up the same stance. Those times had all felt genuine. But with Gai today, why did it feel awkward? Unnatural? What in the world was up with him?

_Why don’t you ask him? Show that you care, that you want to do what he does for you._

Kakashi’s temples throbbed. No, he couldn’t ask. He’d mess it up.

_You don’t have to shoot yourself in the foot before it even starts._

“Sure, Gai. I’m out for a bite, to answer your question _directly_. Got to eat something before another mission later for tonight.” He hoped that slipping in that fact would deter Gai from inviting him over for dinner again.

Guilt lapped over him like a loyal dog’s tongue on his fingers; the digits twitched so Kakashi shoved them into his pockets. He knew Gai only asked out of concern for his well-being. Only asked to ensure Kakashi wouldn't slip into the shadows. But he wished Gai would finally get tired of inviting him for dinner, for spars, for everything. So as to finally prevent himself from hurting Gai's feelings when he brushed aside that concern. A concern Kakashi knew he didn’t deserve.

Obliviously, his childhood friend nodded.

“If you don’t have anything else to do, you can tag along if you want. We’re both here getting groceries, right?” Kakashi was shocked at hearing the question, as it was _his_ voice asking Gai.

Gai bore the same plasticky expression for a second before Kakashi's words sunk in. Then that countenance melted into a soft, dimpled smile. Kakashi’s chest burned, and that incessant pain inside his gut at long last subsided.

“...Right, groceries,” Gai nodded way too much in agreement, but Kakashi didn’t question it. Not when Gai beamed like that. “What are you getting, Kakashi?”

“What about you, what are you getting?” Kakashi butted in before Gai kicked off about how great his Eternal Rival’s diet was or whatever monologue he was about to dictate. However, at the change in spotlight, Gai frowned those adorably large brows of his.

“Me?” The jounin echoed.

“Yeah, _you_. This is a produce stall,” Kakashi reminded Gai, and it must have been a memo his friend needed since Gai comically looked around himself, let out a small laugh, and rubbed the back of his head. Gai was good with places and things, so he had to be out of it as Kakashi had hypothesized.

“Ah! You’re sharp as ever, Rival! Nothing really, I got everything I needed. Oh, but if you need any to stock your fridge, cucumbers are in season. Or the tomatoes! I had some yesterday, and they’d be the perfect star in a salad! Or edamame, you like edamame with tofu—”

“My fridge is fine,” Kakashi lied, and thereafter told the truth, “I wasn’t going to get vegetables today. Just something to eat.”

“Humph! Your fridge is fine, but what about the food within it, Kakashi?” Gai grilled him, and Kakashi smiled behind his mask. His rival did have a point there.

“What about it.” He snickered inwardly at Gai huffing and insisting Kakashi ‘knew what he meant.’

The ANBU captain shrugged, lifting up his hands in the most laissez-faire way which would pique at the shinobi’s temper, and teased, “I’m not getting anything here today, but feel free to tag along and convince me to restock. Maybe if you’re good with your words, you can get me to take care of my own grocery list rather than you surprising me with your so-called _surplus_ of food showing up in my fridge from time to time.”

“I shared because I had more than I needed!” Gai pointed at Kakashi, as if he had the winning piece of the argument. Kakashi smirked. It was cute that Gai never seemed to back down, even for a debate as silly as this. But Kakashi was the same, especially around Gai. They both hated losing without a fight.

“You had more because you bought them _for me_. Admit it.” Kakashi grinned, one exposed eye crinkled in a mock-sweet smile. He rested his hands back into his pockets, nudged his head to the main road as a final invite to Gai, and pivoted to go. He walked forward and faintly his mind wondered:

_Will Gai follow you forever?_

“It’d be a waste to throw food away! Papa told me never to waste anything!” Gai called out, so Kakashi snapped his head back to rebut _there were things which one could waste_ — but the sight of Gai running up to meet him silenced his remark. Kakashi watched his friend wave at the shopkeep who was eyeing them from the end of the stall, and made room for Gai to join him. Gai stretched his arms over his head as he caught up to Kakashi’s side, and almost immediately he winced and dropped his arms down.

Before Kakashi could ask, Gai joked he must have pulled a muscle last night while sleeping. Kakashi snorted, not intending to poke fun (this time around) but Gai pouted anyway, and bemoaned that he was 'never going to complain about an ache around his Eternal Rival ever again, be sure of it!'

The ANBU commander raised both a dubious eyebrow and a smirk under his mask. A silent but obvious “really?” was telegraphed through his single-eyed stare, which met with the surety of Gai's own response, two fire-shined eyes. Kakashi grinned bigger now. This little banter felt back into their routinely dynamic, their schtick. Therefore, he didn’t need to ask about earlier. If anything, he most likely had been reading too much into the situation.

The June day deepened in its sweltering heat, beating down on the two friends walking side-by-side through the main market road. The first thing Kakashi noticed was the prickle behind his neck, the warmth spreading over the dark fabric of his ANBU uniform. Next was the assortment of sounds; voices low and high, the trilling of store bells, and the wooden rattle of carts and wagons; then there were smells of street food sizzling in oil or baked in fired-up urns, savory and sweet and salty and spicy, all these pungent scents somehow blended into a palatable aroma that actually had his stomach craving.

He smirked, a second ago the market had been featureless, and now there were almost _too many_ things to consider. Gai really pulled him out of his head, didn't he? Kakashi glanced to the side, marking how the sunlight was hitting the shinobi’s dark hair. The sheen on the tresses swayed along with Gai’s steps, dappling like light on river water.

Since the Konoha Marketplace was filling up with the morning crowd, their route grew congested. Barely missing a group of young genin dashing by their sides, Kakashi upped the vigilance. He was on the lookout for any rampaging ninja, wayward carts, and absentee merchants, which was more than what Gai was doing.

There had been small talk throughout their stroll, but without Gai engaging in the conversation as he usually did, the quietness between them was significant. It wasn’t their wordless understanding as well, such as the kind when they were on the battlefield and could communicate their thoughts with merely the brush of their backs against another. This silence was stuffy. It was attic dust in Kakashi's lungs. It was the box of family photos cramped in the corner of his closet.

Quickly, he shook it off, not allowing his thoughts to go there. Fortunately as a distraction, Kakashi spotted a menu stand on the road. It belonged to a bakery Gai and Kurenai liked, one specialized in _nikuman_.

"Hey, Gai."

"Huh? What is it, Kakashi?"

"You like the bread here, right? Want to split a pork bun?"

Kakashi in general preferred fish as well as pickled vegetables over the richer-tasting meats and sides, but there were times Gai would bring Kakashi some steamed vegetable buns from this bakery, which were admittedly tasty. All in all, he wanted to see Gai eat something in front of him, regain some of that lustrous 'Maito Energy' Gai bragged so much about on any other day.

However, his friend seemed to turn a shade of green not too dissimilar to his spandex suit.

"Thank you for the offer but I-I'm good, Rival!" Gai mentioned he wasn't hungry and his pantry was full.

"I thought you're out buying groceries," Kakashi said.

"Yeah, I am! Just no pig. I mean, bread. No pork buns." Gai flailed.

"Right," Kakashi drew out the word, waiting for Gai to throw himself into an overeager explanation for what was apparent fishy behavior. But his friend looked off to the side, and avoided checking out the impressive cooked hogs hooked from the ceiling of the bakery, on display to show passersby that all meat was barbecued in-house.

Why was the atmosphere between him and Gai so tense? Strangely enough, this heavy feeling wasn't the result of one Kakashi's mood swings, either. An self-imposed gravity tugged at Kakashi to fill the void. To say anything.

"Did you have a mission recently?" Kakashi asked, dipping his toe into what he felt was a harmless topic.

"...Yeah." Gai said, matching his eyes with Kakashi's after a length.

"So?" Kakashi inquired, impatient to not see the pause in Gai's response play out. On another day, Gai would barrel through the basic synopsis of his mission, the lands and people he visited, and go into an anecdote about the wild medicinal plants growing this time around in the deep woods, or how he heard a bird chirping which inspired him to create a new fighting technique, all sorts of fanfare — and today, there was none. The jounin shrugged.

"I'm not in the mood to talk about it." Gai replied.

Not in the mood to talk. Kakashi squinted his good eye and folded his arms in front of his chest. Was Gai mad at him? From ignoring the dinner invite yesterday? No, Gai wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. This was uncharacteristic of the young man who called himself Kakashi’s Eternal Rival, a nickname Kakashi begrudgingly agreed was true… ah. Maybe, finally, Gai was growing tired of him. Tired of how Kakashi treated him, dismissed him.

_Then change. Do something about it. Gai is here, isn’t he? He’s still by your side. You don’t know how long for._

_Don’t take him for granted._

Kakashi _knew_ he didn’t want to. But the warm encouragement only made the words Kakashi longed to say harder to convey. The suspension in their conversation grew wider. With the passing of each second, the divide between them expanded. He had to jump over this ridge. Had to make some sort of connection before it was too late.

So Kakashi pressed on the same neutral topic, adding in a self-deprecating, “Well, _I_ shouldn’t be the one to throw a childish tantrum about secrets. You know all my missions are classified and I can’t tell you about them, hah.”

Gai didn’t throw one of his fits of play-temper. No, there was an absence of sound. Another nod. Kakashi instantly felt worse. Why did he say that? Come on, he scolded himself to think of an idea to alleviate Gai’s mood. He needed something.

“You think we’ll have a mission together again sometime?” Kakashi started, and Gai flinched. His friend cautiously drew his dark brown irises over to Kakashi.

“...You want to have a mission with me, Rival?” There was the slightest boyish crack in Gai’s deep voice.

Emboldened by getting an attentive response from Gai, Kakashi nodded. Let his feelings show, if a little veiled under his mask.

“Why not. You’re dependable. You know I can’t go into details about my mission, but the same can't be said about some of the people I have to work with. There are a few I don't even know if I could ever trust.” Kakashi elucidated, recounting the Sweepers and their leader, Yamakujira.

It had been a few years since Kakashi made ANBU captain, and ever since becoming captain, he had to deal with the inner politics of ANBU. So-called hidden hierarchies and power grabs. It was garbage, politics. ANBU shouldn’t be a place of prestige. It was the equivalent of a demon trying to make his name in Hell.

The only accomplishment in ANBU Kakashi cared about was not dying.

Anyone who thought it made them better ninjas to be part of the death squad, as if it was something to be renowned for, Kakashi hated those showoffs the most. Those types of people had no idea what ANBU was about. How brutal and wicked one had to become. And then there were the _monsters_ who embraced that darkness.

He grimaced and divulged in an irritated undertone, “No, I can’t trust them with my back. Even some of the new recruits in my own team…”

The other shinobi didn’t pry with any questions, but Kakashi answered.

“I wonder what sort of rumors and preconceived notions were fed to them, but it was plain to see from the very start they weren’t ready for ANBU. Perhaps some of them were so green, too young, not experienced enough…”

Himizu.

“Some too rigid and caught up on semantics.”

Uzura.

“And some…”

Too soft. Too noble.

“...Some aren’t fit for ANBU at all. Always going against what ANBU should do, what I tell them to do. I’m their captain. We’re all Konoha ninja serving under the Hokage. When a directive is given, you follow orders. You don’t question. You don’t hesitate, that’s what a ninja does.” Kakashi concluded.

“Not when it goes against what’s right,” a shaky voice argued.

Kakashi stared incredulously at Gai, who repeated himself, firmer this time, “Not when it goes against abandoning your teammates. Disrespecting your fellow human beings.”

“What do you know about being in ANBU, Gai?” Kakashi snidely retorted and immediately regretted how Gai had a momentary flinch; something flashed in the brown-eyed gaze before it was cool and collected again.

“You know better than anyone that good shinobi don't always strictly adhere to the Ninja Code. You know they don't account for _everything_. You know how trust goes both ways. You can’t expect anyone to trust you when you can't trust them, Kakashi.”

The ANBU commander was speechless. Subtly he closed his ajar mouth and stared at his Eternal Rival, who wasn’t looking away. That was the thing about Gai, although he openly declared his admiration for Kakashi, he wasn't one to blindly agree with everything Kakashi did. The truth was he was never following Kakashi. Gai walked his own path, one that was beside his Eternal Rival's.

"Sorry, Kakashi. I realize that I'm being defensive. My last mission, ah, didn't go well as I had hoped…" Gai admonished himself, perhaps noting how Kakashi had no reply.

And there was none to follow, not when Kakashi carefully examined Gai's expression up close in that rare pause. There was a lot Gai wasn't telling, and though he hid it well, there were some aspects Kakashi would always pick out. He knew Gai best. Or thought he did. It made his heart pull into his gut when he discovered the redness and puffiness around long-fringed dark lashes, and the small cut on Gai's bottom lip. When did that happen? Why hadn't he noticed earlier?

_Don't be too hard on yourself. You tried your best._

Kakashi hated hearing it, even in his own head. What _best_ , what _try_? He failed at making Gai feel better. He mishandled his childhood friend's feelings once again.

Gai really should replace him. He was getting close to Kurenai and Asuma, it would be easy to just stop speaking with Kakashi altogether. Cut him out like a gangrenous limb. It's not like Kakashi acted like he wanted to keep up with Gai either. It’s why Gai didn’t trust Kakashi with his inner turmoil, wasn’t it? Kakashi hadn’t proven himself worthy of that trust.

Without warning, Gai stopped in his tracks. His sandals scraped against the dirt. Kakashi slowed to a halt, curious about the disruption.

"Oh. I actually need to stop by here," Gai murmured. Kakashi wondered if it was meant for him to hear, as his friend's voice had a crease in it. As if bent at the corner. A dog-eared flap on a page, a personal bookmark made in a hurry.

Craning his neck out, Kakashi espied the sign of the shop.

"Yamanaka Florists?" Kakashi read out.

"This was a good walk, Kakashi! I shall see you another time! And next time will entail a challenge!" Gai promised, indicating his farewell with a wink and a nod, but Kakashi wasn't done.

"Hold on, if it's not too long, I can wait. Who are you shopping for? Got a special someone I don't know about?" Kakashi ribbed, looking forward to embarrassing Gai and making him flush, for shame was such a rare expression on the other man.

"What do you mean? You know there is nothing greater than our Eternal Rivalry." Gai innocently said, leaving Kakashi too flummoxed to speak. He went on, "It's that… I need to re-pot one of my plants. Anyway, I know how busy you are. Thanks for spending time with me, Kakashi."

"Gai—" the name was inaudible over the opening of the shop door, lost amidst the ringing of several wind chimes and a greeting from a clerk.

With goodbyes in place, Gai spun on his heel to face inside the store, but Kakashi caught a glimpse of Gai’s wrist swiping across his cheek. Was that sweat? Or tears? All Kakashi could see now was that comforting back, broad-shouldered and capable of carrying so much burden. How much of it was Gai's? How much of it wasn't?

The little bells on the shop door jingled as the door closed, sundering Gai from Kakashi's sight. Awkwardly, Kakashi stood in the middle of the road for an extended breath, stupidly monitoring the florist's door just in case. When logic recognized this shameless impulse, he scoffed. Get over it, he told himself.

Resolved, Kakashi carried on, willing his body to endure the steaming heat of the June sun. The sunlight was harsh; its brightness almost too white-bright and demanding of excessive illumination. The sounds and smells of the Marketplace were overwhelming under its bleached shine, and Kakashi was reminded why he preferred the tenebrous dark.

* * *

The twilight arrived late, conforming with summer's lazy schedule. Soon nightfall would lumber in sleepily, chasing after a sun that had overstayed its welcome. This lethargy better not had affected his squad, though. The meeting was about to commence and Kakashi hated under-explaining as much as over-explaining the mission briefing.

He was down a member as well. When he had passed through the lobby an hour earlier, the clerk had delivered a note from the ANBU Administration. Under the recommendation of her kenjutsu tutor, Mangusu, also known as Uzuki Yugao, was not permitted to be cleared from the medical ward. Just her luck. Gekkou Hayate had found out about her injury. Kakashi knew he wouldn’t argue with Hayate, it would be a waste of his breath and Yugao would be doing it for him. He hoped she would give Hayate a long earful.

Admin had also said it would take a week to place a new recruit into Team Ro; something about enhanced screening. Kakashi hadn't argued. In fact, he appreciated the prudence. He never wanted someone like Himizu on his squad ever again, as well as Nezumi, who had the gall to actually show up to the briefing.

It was annoying, Nezumi had been the first to sign in and if it weren't for Neko coming in literally a second after, Kakashi would have kicked the new squadmate out promptly. The trio had waited in tense silence until Itachi, Fukuro, and Uzura had entered the meeting room. The latter two stood opposite of each other in the room, avoiding direct contact.

Uzura perched next to Nezumi, and Fukuro to Neko. The quail was murmuring to the mouse, and the owl flicked her head to acknowledge her commander. Itachi stood as the connector of this loose ring, and shifted his vision left and right, cocked his head, and next looked up to Kakashi for guidance.

The captain sighed inwardly, clocking the transparent line of distrust within his own squad. However, time was of the essence. He’d work on teamwork later. Kakashi stepped forward to center the attention onto himself, eschewing a greeting to go into the specifics of the mission.

“Our mission today is chasing after defectors. A-rank. One of them pilfered a forbidden scroll before the four of them dipped out. According to Admin, they’ve been under surveillance for the past two weeks for suspicions of conspiracy against Konoha, but someone must have tipped them off because they alighted last night.” Kakashi said.

The group collectively signaled their understanding. Kakashi passed some papers he pulled from a thin folder, sheets with photos and short bios and statistics for each of the targets. There were two taijutsu specialists, a genjutsu user, and a ninjutsu expert.

“They’re not important enough to be Missing Nin in our books. Or at least, not yet. Let’s keep it that way. We’re going in, disarming them, and bringing the bodies back to Konoha. Alive, unless circumstances change. No backup from Cleanup.”

There was a breath of relief, so quiet Kakashi couldn’t discern the source. He got it; he never liked teaming with Yamakujira’s squad too. Placing a hand over his hip, he scrutinized the body language of his team. Though the veterans of his squad bolstered well, there was fatigue etched in their stances. Kakashi would have to double his effort, pick up twice the load. He could do it; he could carry the team. He could rely on himself.

“As you all know, we’re out two members. Mangusu is fine, healing up. They should be back on duty next week. We won’t have a replacement until next week. Since we’re down a combat member, Neko, I’m having you switch from projectile and jutsu backup into the front line,” Kakashi commanded.

The cat nodded swiftly and his brown hair shook in the process. Neko was a fairly new member of Team Ro, having been placed a few months ago, but was proving to be a useful teammate. He was shy and kept to himself most of the time and followed orders exceptionally. Kakashi decided he could handle an extra responsibility.

“Captain Inu,” Uzura called out, raising her hand, “if we’re down a combat member, I’d recommend Nezumi, sir.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow behind his mask. Nezumi was equally surprised, jumping up at the sound of his name and turning to the quail, who pressed on with two imploring hands.

She continued to make her case, “Captain, Nezumi would be able to take on Mangusu’s role with ease. Last night, he was—”

“No.” Kakashi bit down with a sharp bark. Both the quail and the mouse stiffened.

“No,” he repeated, “I saw _enough_ last night. Nezumi, you’ll stay in the back and support. Do not engage unless I give you the direct order.”

The mouse, who was the tallest of their squad, seemed to deflate to half of his height. The ANBU-issued cloak he wore flapped open at the front, and Kakashi’s keen eyesight appraised how there were homemade patches on the knees of the pants. Did this fool really try to fix up his clothes in lieu of picking up a new uniform from the armory? Why go out of the way to do such a thing. He must be a real idiot.

Kakashi held back a growl in the back of his throat. Nezumi unmistakably had no place in ANBU, he just didn’t _feel_ like anyone Kakashi could see belonging in the death squad. Where was that darkness?

Outside of the basic stat sheet Admin provided him, Kakashi had no information on Nezumi. But ANBU was like that, secrets upon secrets. To protect everyone's identity, they were all nobodies until they made themselves into somebodies through their own free will.

He knew one thing for certain about the mouse. Nezumi was a fake. An illusion Kakashi couldn’t perceive with his Sharingan, a riddle Kakashi couldn’t decipher. There was no chakra signature to identify this peculiar squadmate with his senses. There was no face, no voice, no name, no history. The fact there was a man made of Nothing but nothing provoked the captain’s suspicions. On paper Nezumi was the perfect faceless soldier for Konoha, and yet he acted the polar opposite.

Nezumi was a fake who was _genuine_. He wore his heart on his sleeve. In ANBU. It made zero sense. It had to be an act. How could Kakashi trust a person like this?

_I know you know how trust goes both ways._

The dog gritted his teeth, bared it behind two masks and finally untensed his jaw. All of these thoughts, he hated how they assumed Kakashi was a good person. He wasn’t. He really wasn’t.

“Nezumi. I assume you showing up today means you understand what being in ANBU requires of you.” Kakashi asserted, sighing out the rest of his phrase. The squadmate nodded, that dumb painted-on smile cheerful in its agreement. God, even his mask was out of place.

It made the dog want to grapple it and rip it off. Just to hear a shriek or a shout, something to indicate the human pain behind the masquerade. Where was the sobbing mess from yesterday? Was this reaction practiced or authentic? How was he acting so put together in the wake of less than twenty-four hours of mass murder?

After succeeding his first ever ANBU mission, Kakashi had been ill with guilt-induced fevers for the entire week. He remembered how suffocating breathing had felt, how compact and _small_ his body had been, weak and useless, and how the Sharingan's pulsing orb had felt too _big_ for his eye socket, close to bursting out in a waterfall of blood. If it hadn't been for Minato-sensei, Kushina-san, and Gai keeping tabs on him, Kakashi surmised if he would have been crazed enough to hurt himself further.

He could still recall his sensei forcing him to eat breakfast, a rice porridge that was too thick and too runny simultaneously. And there were the many times Gai had stayed by his side to get Kakashi water or help him amble around his house. Lastly, there were the faint memories of Kushina-san's hushed lullaby, for Kakashi and her unborn child, to aid them to a gentle rest. In that time, sleep-dozed Kakashi had supposed this was what his mother would have done had she been alive.

Did the mouse have a support system like Kakashi luckily had at that time? Was he at long last desensitized, as Kakashi commanded, humanity shred from his soul? Something Kakashi was struggling with himself?

Or was this ANBU member a ticking time bomb. Kakashi had seen firsthand how needless sentimentalities clouded people's minds. It caused people to make drastic decisions spurred on by their own panicked psyches. Any other possibility was cast aside in favor of a forgone conclusion in their terrified, wild eyes.

His right hand trembled for a moment and the skin under his nails itched. No one will see because of the glove, the captain told himself. He had stripped the surface of his hands clean after returning home from the Marketplace. There was no blood. There would be no more blood.

No one to force his hand ever again.

_And no one will. It doesn’t hurt to take Gai's advice._

The ANBU commander’s eyes narrowed, pinching the image of the recruit in his field of vision. He mulled over the thought. No, the idiot would surely screw it up again. Could put himself or someone else in danger. Although Kakashi didn’t want the mouse to get away scot-free, the gentle stream of consciousness swept over his burning gaze and cooled it down.

_Give Nezumi another chance to prove himself, to earn your trust, Kakashi._

Shit, he really was too soft sometimes.

"...But betray my command, my trust, and I will personally go to Lord Hiruzen and tell him you're off my team." Kakashi threatened, not conceding fully to the voice in his head.

Nezumi straightened up. All eyes were on him as the squadmate gave Kakashi a salute. A thumbs up. Somehow, it felt like a promise was made. The anger Kakashi held settled down in the back of his head, and the dog concluded his briefing. There was no more time to dally. Another mission was here, and it had to go well. It had to.

* * *

But of course, it was another mission gone wrong. Even with Kakashi’s record, his meticulousness, his strict regimen for order, all of his preparedness — some missions nevertheless went wrong.

The route tracking the foursome had been too easy, that should have been the first giveaway the captain should have remarked. He blamed it on tiredness, and scratched it out, defaulting to own up to his mistake. It was _his_ tiredness, after all.

They had gone through kilometers of forest unscathed, which was fortuitous. The wild woods fortressing Konoha were known as labyrinths, especially for anyone unused to the parts. For Kakashi's ninken, such twisting ways were negligible obstacles. The animals had sprinted unhindered, yipping from the thrill, with the humans in close pursuit. As the trees thinned out and the ground rose to a grass-covered knoll, Kakashi rounded up his summons. The dogs had whined, the trail went into the overgrown pasture and they had been eager to chase up the hill. But Kakashi hadn't wanted to take the risk. A sound out of place was an alert in the making.

The hillside path had been tall and thick, the grass sidled up to their chests. Itachi, the youngest, could hide completely within the vegetation. The viridescent meadow had been decorated by a smattering of small light azure bonnets by their feet.

Though Kakashi didn’t give a damn about flowers, the peculiarity of their design had drawn his attention. The fanned-out sky blue heads had drooping white fronds like flecks of cream and hooked spurs coming out of their backs like eagles’ talons. Additionally, the turf had stank cloyingly sweet like artificial incense, which made Kakashi’s nose curl from the inside-out.

Clueless Kakashi had no idea what the flowers were until a squadmate — Fukuro? Uzura? — had quietly pointed out they were columbine. In their academy days, the kunoichi had been taught the language of flowers. Columbines were known as symbols of strength, one had whispered. No, symbols of foolishness, the other had argued.

Subsequently another ANBU member — Neko? Itachi? — had asked, “If it smells so sweet, why aren’t there any insects?”

The killing intent had smacked into his senses so fast, Kakashi had nearly missed the chance to dodge an upswing of a large, gnarled root bursting up from the sod underneath. He had jumped out of the way, but behind him there had been an alarmed yell and the sickening sound of flesh slapping against a hard surface. Before he had even a second to spin his head back to check, he had faced one of his targets at point-blank: the genjutsu user.

Presently here he was, separated from his team, clawing out of an illusion which required the use of the Sharingan. His skull felt like it was melting off on his left side, and he forced his brain to stave off the horror of that image. It was a trick of the mind, he told himself. Focus.

The ninja Kakashi was fighting had commingled into the greenery. He circumvented the dog’s sight, hiding underneath the sea of swaying turquoise grass. But even if his regular eye couldn’t follow, the Sharingan could foretell the smallest shake from the blades of imaginary vegetation. The defector abandoned his cover and leapt into the air to slice down Kakashi with a serrated shuko claw, but the ANBU commander had foreseen it.

Kakashi retaliated with merciless steel. He pierced the oncoming shinobi with his sword from the bottom on up, skewering the enemy down to the pommel of the sword’s handle. The shinobi was heavy, but the dog held firm. Dark fumes billowed from the man's mouth as he let out a shuddering gasp which transformed into a terrified death scream when Kakashi expelled an electricity release through the conductive metal of his tanto blade, scorching the ninja's innards with blue plasma.

Immediately the illusion melted around him, the flowers and their stomach-twisting sugariness breaking apart to reveal the crisp and bitter sappiness of the grassland around him, accompanied with the tang of blood and the tarnished air of smoke and ozone. Kakashi kicked the singed body off his sword and whipped around to dodge a whirling fist, which bashed through the dead shinobi in a wet, blood-splattering smush. Kakashi panted out a disbelieving breath and his eyes grew wide at the horrendous scene in front of him — another of the defectors had punched a hole into their ex-teammate’s mangled chest.

“Captain… the jutsu!” There was a plea, and Kakashi glanced over as a response to the cry for help. It sounded like Fukuro. The sprawling grass around Kakashi had been toppled down, some fully flattened, others bent in broken patches from the uprooting of several hulking creeper plants thrashing around for prey. He could see easily on the clearcut ground, and located his team who had rolled off further down the slope of the hill.

In the distance were Fukuro and Neko, their limbs stretched and strangled by the roots. They were fighting off two corded lengths attempting to wrap around their necks. Before Kakashi could make a move, there was an abrupt bright flare which prickled at the corner of Kakashi's left eye, and the dog turned to follow up. The light source was a fire release. Bursting from behind the flames, he saw a small masked ninja. Itachi, busy blowing fireball after fireball to counter a fleet-footed kunoichi who entangled him in battle, and—

Kakashi groaned when a force knocked the wind out of him and sent him skidding back. His legs buckled trying to stand upright, but the force had been too much. The ANBU commander flipped backward and rolled in the dry, cracked soil. Quick, he had to get up—

“Keep your eyes on me, Copycat!” The other shinobi snarled and rushed forward, two iron ring blades glinting in his hands and presaging danger. The defectors had read the forbidden scroll, evidenced by the glowing green rings around their eyes, the noxious fumes spewing from their mouths. Gas emitted from the man’s lips like black chimney smoke, the thick miasma coming closer and closer.

Although his left eye throbbed, swollen with pain, Kakashi locked onto the moving target with the gifted Sharingan, and willed his injured, torpefied fingers to stiffly make out the hand seals. Chakra gathered at his legs and his right hand to create a single blitz, for this opportunity, this one chance. He placed his left palm over his right fist, and strength rushed into his clenched fingertips, buzzing in the keratin of his nails as Chidori activated. The air around it crackled in its distinctive, high-pitched squall.

He charged, ready to strike. And deliberately ignored the shinobi who slashed into his side with a circular spin of the cutting blade. Blood flew and Kakashi’s nerves jittered like a bell struck, but he ground his teeth through the agony. Bleeding from the wound at his right rib, Kakashi continued his assault forward. He spread his arm out, his Chidori scything through the thick tendrils hunting in the grassland as he forged ahead to the kunoichi he had spied hiding out in the backline. Shaded near the trees, the ninjutsu specialist had used the advantage of distance to choke out Team Ro.

Said distance was nothing for Kakashi’s rapid advance.

In seconds he had her by the throat, and the electricity garrotted through the bone and muscle of her windpipe, killing her instantly. Her corpse fell onto him and he held it by the shoulders. In a matter of milliseconds, a large shadow and a heavy pressure fell over the ANBU member, obscuring the moon’s gaze on the killing that took place. Kakashi knew what it was. It was the other defector. He caught up to Kakashi.

The captain shoved the dead woman off of him, and chakra surged toward his hand again but didn’t make it to his fingers. Instead, the sparks fizzled out. His energy reserves had tapped out, and his arm deadened from the loss. The nerves would not respond. Kakashi swore in his head. Idiot. He couldn't even lift up his arm to defend. With no options left, Kakashi braced his body for a blow which never came. To him.

He watched dumbly as ring-blade rocketed off to the side with a bone-crushing crack thanks to a blur of white and black. The hazy shape cleared after a few blinks of Kakashi’s worn out eyes, and when he recognized those apple-red cheek circles, that irritating smile, the dog pounced.

Again. Nezumi didn’t listen _again._

“You idiot, what happened to supporting the squad?!” Kakashi barked, shaking the mouse who let the captain throttle his collar. The squadmate's head lolled forward and back.

In the midst of the dog's intense grapple, Nezumi's hood slipped. Long, shoulder-length black hair swayed to and fro with Kakashi’s jerking. The moon shone a pale halo over the taller teammate, framing the shinobi's sleek locks. Cool light illuminated the dark strands hugging around the white mask, and shined over them sliding across the red decorative circles like silk. The image of Nezumi divested of his hood was unexpected. Unfamiliarly… familiar. The revelation of it startled Kakashi’s hands to release their biting hold.

The mouse hurriedly pulled over his hood and stepped aside, waving his arm and emphatically pointing toward the horizon of the hill. Kakashi pushed the manic, gesturing squadmate aside to step forward and squint. His breath left him like the flooding of monsoon water. Drenched with the ache of anticipation and soaked with relief, Kakashi noted specks in the distance climbing up, galloping closer. It didn't take a genius like Kakashi to comprehend it was Team Ro. One, two, three, four. All of the squad.

"You?" He looked back to query the mouse, who responded with a little hop. The ANBU member punched the air twice, right followed by left, motioned yanking something off of his neck, and indicated at the squad coming in. Nezumi had broken through the strangling vines and freed Fukuro and Neko.

"You…" Kakashi ended up speechless.

_Did he prove himself to you?_

"I said to keep your eyes on me, Copycat!"

Kakashi spun around and winced. The gash at his side opened further by his sudden reaction. It was the ring-blade ninja. Kakashi ground his teeth, the enemy must have gained his second wind, staggered on up during Kakashi's scuffle with Nezumi. Foolish. Kakashi had been foolish and let his emotion get the best of him.

The sole defector briskly placed his hands together in a seal Kakashi had never seen in his life, and the ANBU commander felt an immediate surge of chakra emanating from the man. Kakashi leapt away from the base of the trees, a smart move as the pines were struck with a flurry of rank smoke and melted. He somersaulted further back into the torn grassland, and felt Nezumi land behind him.

Kakashi got to his feet but swayed. Shit. His chakra was almost completely gone, the effect of post-Chidori. His eyes were watering from the strain, blurring up at the peripheries. Kakashi was succumbing to the pain of the wound, the pang from within his stomach. Ah fuck. He could finally answer the question. He didn't eat anything today.

"You won't get away this time! I'm going to enjoy melting down your brain, Hatake Kakashi." The shinobi declared, activated his jutsu, and doubled forward.

The man was hacking, grasping the dirt. He retched over and over, gurgling out globs of thick smoke. It endlessly streamed out of the man's eyes, ears, lips, any orifices as if the man was a house caught on fire. The gases immediately stitched into themselves, becoming mass, morphing into parodies of men.

Kakashi was surrounded. Though his right arm was shot and limply hung at his side, Kakashi still could move his left hand. He still had the means to fight. The will to protect his squad. He reached back toward his kunai holster and flinched. There was something pressing against his back. No, someone.

"Nezumi," Kakashi whispered, guessing the back against his own.

The tiniest tremor from shoulders touching his own signaled the mouse was listening. Kakashi breathed. His lip picked up at the corner beneath his two masks.

_I'll trust you to watch my back just this once._

Kakashi’s wordless admission was punctuated by him pushing back with a small nudge. And to his surprise, he met one back in the process. Using the leverage of Nezumi's force, Kakashi lunged.

His knife arced out in an instant; he channeled the remainder of his electricity nature to dissemble the molecules of the gaseous entities with a streak of lightning. He jerked his head back to check and watched Nezumi sweep two into dust by a dextrous swing of a staff— there!— Kakashi flickered in and zapped the head of a smoke clone who was about to get Nezumi's side. They flickered out in unison. A strong arm wrapped around and stabilized Kakashi's injured right side, and his teammate ferried him across the field with the body flicker jutsu, closing Kakashi in to the target, the defector who at long last had the fear of death in his possessed eyes.

Kakashi quickly squeezed Nezumi's left shoulder. His squadmate understood, released Kakashi and jumped just as the captain went below, swiping at the enemy's legs with his kunai — missed, since the shinobi leapt to dodge — right into Nezumi's knee crashing into his face. The man flew back a second time by the powerful impact, careening into the dirt with a dusty explosion. Kakashi rolled into a sit and watched as the shinobi tried getting up again.

“I-I’m not done yet,” the shinobi alleged through a bloodied mouth. The fumes were rapidly discharging out of him in undulant and colossal pillars, and Kakashi tensed up for another incoming jutsu. Nezumi, who had found his footing beside his commander, was ready for a second spar. Somehow, seeing the determination coming from his teammate encouraged Kakashi to lift his kunai.

But right as the man raised his hands, his head dropped forward. There was a shocked, choked-off squeal from the shinobi, and in front of Kakashi’s eyes the defector’s body simply shut down. Like a smoke bubble collapsing into itself with a single flump of gas, the shinobi disintegrated. Kakashi fought the bile in his throat at the obvious deduction.

The forbidden jutsu had utterly destroyed its host.

The ANBU commander inhaled and exhaled to get air into his aching lungs, processing in suppressed awe at what he witnessed. That power had consumed the shinobi in the most horrific way possible, leaving no trace of its malevolence. Kakashi reran the moments before the man’s untimely and morbid death, scrutinizing the memory in case the death was a feint.

He counted. Twenty seconds had passed. Twenty-one. Twenty-five. If the shinobi was looking to do a surprise attack, now would be it. He didn’t see anything, but Kakashi held his breath to hone his sensitive ears just in case for an unusual sound.

The dog picked up on a low droning. Ah, the Sharingan. Wait. No. It wasn’t the constantly swirling eye. He strained his ears. There was more than flat buzzing. He made out pauses, rhythms, soars and dips. It was nature, filling in the void. It was what Itachi had said before; the insects had returned to the field. The song of the summer cicadas, the crickets’ chirping, the liveliness of their music signaled the end. The battle was over. No enemies left.

The dog relaxed. He lowered his knife, twirled it once around his finger and pocketed it into its holster. From the corner of his eye, he saw his squadmate loosen up his stance as well.

Speaking of which, the teamwork with Nezumi during this battle... It had felt weird. Funnily, a good kind of weird. Kakashi was surprised at his own wonderment of the result; he had never felt this in sync with someone who wasn't—

"Captain! Nezumi! Are you two okay?" Itachi called out to them.

Kakashi blearily turned his head to the noise, and then blinked at an outstretched hand thrusted into his fuzzy line of vision. He let out a single amused snort and closed his sore eyes; he didn't need to see to know who it was. He took Nezumi's hand and let his teammate help him up to his feet.

Eyes still closed, he felt Nezumi gently guide his right arm around a muscled shoulder. Nezumi’s left hand snaked around his waist and modestly held Kakashi close, a cautious offer to help the ANBU commander by supporting his weight. After ignoring it for so long, Kakashi couldn't deny the enervation seeping into his bones.

Nezumi’s side was warm against Kakashi, and the heat of the other man's hand felt strangely comforting on his back. Kakashi chalked it up to the exhaustion he currently felt and the thoughts that had plagued him throughout the day, but something about this action reminded him of the memories hidden in the corner of his mind. Snapshots he only replayed in his dreams, phantasms of the past.

Two young boys dragging each other out of a battlefield, bumpy piggyback rides that forced him to hold on too tight, his own hand pushing aside long white hair which tickled his nose as he drifted to sleep on a solid back, the low rumbly laugh of its owner. He grimaced and closed his eyes tighter, willing the thoughts away. God, he really was tired. He turned his focus to anything else than nostalgic enfeeblement and pressed again to the warmth.

Sighing, Kakashi leaned heavily on Nezumi and allowed himself to be led back to the rest of the group. He smiled, despite everything, a real smile behind a mask, behind another. Maybe Gai had a point this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a couple b plots planned for this story that include different interpretations of characters and relationships that may be contrary to some popular headcanon. However, I hope that you, our kind readers, will trust and bear with us as these plots develop in the story!
> 
> That being said, thank you again for reading! I hope you all have a very happy KKG week, haha! 
> 
> -kay


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